Breaking Through the Looking Glass
by CobaltCorsair
Summary: Self-realization is a powerful thing. Lucian-centric, laden with Eliteunder and other pairings. Journey through the Psychic's dive into a brave new world and how he met the love of his life through his perspective. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Some notes before actually getting to this:**

**Well, this is one of the best ideas I've ever had. I've wanted to make a Lucian-centric story for a while and include my beliefs on the life he has with Aaron, Cynthia, and his siblings Will and Shauntal. This is primarily going to be stuff about Lucian and Aaron's romantic relationship, told via the Psychic's perspective most of the time, mixed in with other aspects of his lovely life. The story itself was inspired by pretty much every Eliteunder fanfiction I've seen on this site. I do hope you enjoy it and review. This will be multi-chaptered and there will be adult content, lots and lots of delicious adult content. THERE WILL BE YAOI/YURI/HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONS, if this offends you along with sex, language, and other things, then please keep any hateful comments to yourself, or simply message your concerns to me instead.**

**To add to list of inspirators: Vladimir Nabokov, because I just finished reading Lolita—this will play a big part in the ever-budding relationship between Lucian and Aaron.**

**Without any further ado, here is chapter one of Breaking Through the Looking Glass**

**Chapter One: A Sudden Captivation, Simply Put  
—Lucian **

The best aspect of being an Elite is constantly learning about yourself with the help of even the most peculiar of people.

The grandest occasions in Sinnoh always involve the trainers held in highest regard, such as the Champion's coronation—Lady Cynthia being inducted nine years prior to this—or the welcoming of a new member of the Elite Four. Ever since the start of Cynthia's reign, the four leading up to her had been yours truly, predecessors Flint, Bertha, and a young girl who after finding her vehement tactics as a trainer were starting to upset the general public, decided to resign from her position and take time to herself, thus leaving an open space for first Elite. At first, we had no idea how to deal with that empty space, Flint suggesting that we make Volkner the newest Elite and find someone else to manage the Sunyshore Gym, but upon asking, the blond rejected the offer. We had been pondering the solution to this problem for perhaps half a week before our Champion thought of an excellent idea.

"Sweetheart," she said to me, "there have never been more challengers at our League than this year. Ever since Caitlin left more and more trainers want to come to ask questions about being a new Elite." She came out from the bathroom and crawled onto our bed, lying down next to me as I read my book. I smiled and continued without looking at her,

"So what do you propose we do, my love?" I placed the book onto my nightstand and turned to her. "I hear an idea coming on."

"I do have an idea. What's an occasion like this without some fun? I say we have an actual competition. Where we get everyone who has acquired the eight badges to battle against each other for the spot; it'll be a winner-take-all kind of thing. What do you think honey?" she cooed, moving in closer, her body pressed warmly against mine.

"I think it's a splendid idea, Cyn. Tomorrow, share it with the other two and then we'll announce it to the public. Great thinking, love."

"Thanks, Ian." Her lips pressed against mine, and for the moment all was right with the world.

And sure enough, the following week darling Cynthia hosted an all-challengers' event in which (those with the prerequisite of eight badges) would decide the new Elite. The battles lasted a course three days, all at what would today be known as the Fight Area in the Battle Zone Island. There were numerous trainers of all ages who were so skilled and graceful, Flint already had bets going on for certain competitors who were potentially going to win. My love and I stood high above the arena where the event took place, looking on and chattering about the trainers. On the third day, where the last few trainers were finishing this off definitively, something completely unexpected happened. As it turned out, coming out on top over dozens of trainers was an ecstatic young lad from humble beginnings in Eterna City, a Bug type aficionado.

Despite the plethora of trainers holding Pokémon of Flying, Fire, Ice, and what have you, the green-haired Bug Catcher (at the time) held his net high and conquered each and every one of them. He had such a way of commanding his Pokémon, his voice kept firm yet so passionate and exuberant. This boy impressed me to no end, and even I found myself cheering for the boy whose name I did not know. When this long, intense battle between Bug type and Flying type specialist ended, it was shockingly the Bug Catcher who won! I turned to Cynthia and she was so surprised, at the edge of her seat, clapping vigorously for this vigilant fighter. His valiant efforts and impressive use of what one would perceive to be a weak type earned him that spot in the Sinnoh Elites.

Five feet and six inches of teenage hyperactivity, the Bug Catcher's hat flew off his head and trailed behind as he ran at lightning speed next to darling Cynthia, who was standing on a platform in front of the broadcasting building in Jubilife City the following day, requesting all who entered to attend the inauguration of our Elite. Cameras from every angle caught the excited, tears-of-joy-stained face of the boy, and all of Sinnoh cheered for him. I, along with Bertha and Flint, stood off to Cynthia's side, clapping and sharing the joy with our newest colleague.

Darling Cynthia handed him and his party of well-trained Bugs commemorative ribbons, the indication of an official Elite. Aaron squealed giddily and wore the pin-like ribbon proudly on his white shirt, briefly turning to the camera to wave and yell "hello" to his mother. Aaron redirected to Cynthia and jumped on her, hugging her tightly and crying from the overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I have never in my years seen someone so full of life and zest for what he does. Normally children his age were quite apathetic and slovenly trainers, but not Aaron. I could already tell I was going to enjoy his company as an Elite. When he let go of my Cynthia, he laughed a bit through the tears and looked around, stopping to stare and smile at me.

At that instant, from the distance in which I was watching Aaron, something within me just stopped. There was just a frozen moment in time where I heard and saw nothing but Aaron. The thought of him entering our home was something of a realization for me, yet what my mind was trying to tell me, I don't know. All I knew was that I had a feeling something was going to change, probably within me, and it would be because of this child. My joyous mood fancied into inquisition; what had at first been me returning the nice gesture became contorted into a confused sort of face, which I believe came off as a bit standoffish to Aaron. He saw the sudden fall in facial expression and quickly turned away, thinking I was probably not as happy as I was.

That in itself is probably where this entire story begins.

With one quick glance and a loss in translation.

**Author's Note:**

**Whoo, this was a joy to write. I'm actually pretty happy with my short-ish prologue to the life of Lucian and Aaron. Yes, at this time Lucian and Cynthia are (currently) lovers and not a lot of people within know that. This may be a little bit into the pool of Snazzyshipping, however it won't be. They're only together until…well you'll see.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter—the story will be updated regularly, hopefully there will be no longer than a week-long wait—and send your reviews, critiques, and general thoughts (so long as they're not hateful!). Thank you.**

—**CC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's comments: I'm getting as much as I can done within a busy school schedule. Here's chapter two, a relatively long chapter about Lucian and Aaron becoming friends. Aaron is a very fun character to work with, since I kind of picture him like the witty, sarcastic semi-bratty kid in high school that's attracted to outcasts. He pretends to be cool but in reality he's pretty awkward except with his equally as awkward friends. I'm just crazy.**

**More notes will come at the end of this chapter. For now, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Two: The Best Medicine**

—**Lucian **

Getting Aaron situated in our immense home was the hardest part of his arrival. Ignoring such trivialities like forgetting boxes amidst the move or simply getting lost in the hallways, it was Aaron's fear of living in a castle with complete strangers far away from his comfort zone. However, he had a lot of time to get to know Cynthia whilst going back and forth from Eterna to the League, so he warmed up around her pretty well. The week after he won the competition Aaron arrived, in a brand new outfit some girl back at his hometown made for him. The black-vest-orange-pants motif with his green hair really made quite the statement—admittedly it was a lot more adorable than his Bug Catching outfit. Darling Cynthia and I greeted him at the door, my love taking notice in Aaron's new outfit first.

"Well, aren't you the spiffy little trainer?" she cooed, nodding in approval.

"You like?" he smiled, twirling and showing off his outfit. They walked together into the living room where many boxes laid across the floor, all with Aaron's name written on them with black marker. I was sitting on a chair, reading a book and listening to the conversation from afar. When the two came in, tittering about outfits and whatnot, I placed down my book and made my way to Cynthia.

"Fabulous, Aaron, simply fabulous." said darling Cynthia. They seemed to have hit things off after the competition. Aaron stopped and shot a glance at me before looking down.

"Hey there." He mumbled to me, his green eyes shifting back to Cynthia awkwardly as if asking her what to do.

"Oh, Aaron, this right here is my love, Lucian, the strongest of the Elites." She said to Aaron, placing a hand on my shoulder. "That could change, though, since you have a type advantage over him…" I ghosted my fingers around her waist and tickled her. She giggled and mumbled resistance.

"Hush, sweetheart. Hello, Aaron. It's nice to finally meet you. I've wanted to get to know the trainer who impressed me so much at the competition." Aaron's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Really? Why does someone like you want to talk to me?" He stopped and stammered after realizing the wording of his sentence was unintentionally rude. "I-I mean that I'm honored you want to know me, it's just that I'm like, the last person I'd imagine anyone with your status to care about. You're just so…so…so _Lucian_."

Ah, the joys of illiteracy. I chuckled at this. "I'm so 'Lucian'?" I turned to Cynthia, "I guess I'm my own adjective."

Cynthia laughed and Aaron blushed, clearing his throat and trying to make up some retaliation on the spot. "Hey, you should be honored that your name has made it as an adjective in the dictionary of Aaron. Do you have any idea how rarely that happens?" Cynthia and I got a good kick out of that one.

When our laughter died down, a dull chiming sound came from Cynthia's coat pocket. Someone was calling her urgently. That damn pompous Champion from Johto was arranging a last-minute meeting, since it's almost time to host the World Tournament. My poor sweetheart was in charge of regulating the systems and battle times.

"Hold on boys, I have to take this one. I'm sorry I wasn't really much help with the move, Aaron. I know you still have some boxes here that need to be brought upstairs…" she sighed sadly.

Aaron looked so downtrodden about the news. "Oh…well, it's a'ight! I can move the rest of the boxes, it's no biggie."

Cynthia looked at me with wide, glossy eyes. "Well, Lucian, you're not doing anything right now besides being my arm candy," she whispered to me, "can you please help Aaron move his boxes into his room?" She pouted, well-aware of my weakness to irresistible lower lips. There was no way I could reject that.

"Of course, darling." My blonde beauty gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and patted Aaron on the head.

"Thank you. I'll be back maybe by this evening. Bye, boys!" and she scurried off out of the castle and in direction of the Johto region, leaving me alone in the living room with Aaron. This made the boy somewhat uncomfortable for some reason or another. His face was a bit flushed, perhaps due to the stress of moving all those boxes. I came closer to him and flashed a reassuring smile.

"You look so disappointed about Cynthia's departure." I said after a moment or two, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tensed.

"I am a little bummed that she had to go, but…it gives me the opportunity to get to know you—uh, if you know, you were serious about wanting to get to know me."

I chuckled. "Of course I was serious. I'm hardly one to joke at all. But to offset that, just because I'm not the most outgoing Elite in the region doesn't mean I'm any less sociable. I can attempt to make friends when interested."He looked up at me and smiled, yet he was still tensed up.

"That's pretty cool. I mean, how many people can say that _the _Lucian, _the _most important person in Sinnoh besides Cynthia is interested in me?" He reverted back to that bubbly demeanor I had grown accustomed to.

"Oh please, Aaron, I'm nothing to get excited about. If anything, I'm humbled in _your _presence."

"How so?"

"You're an excellent trainer. I admired your performance very much."

He looked away and blushed. "You mean that? Aw gee, it was nothing…"

I turned to look at a box of his on the floor, smile still plastered onto my face, and I picked it up. Surprisingly light. "So you needed help with these, didn't you?"

Aaron snapped out of a trance and stammered. "O-oh yeah, that stuff. You really don't have to, Lucian. I don't want to bother you." He held up my hand in protest and stopped him.

"You are no bother to me, Aaron. I said I would help, and I stay true to my word."

"Thanks, Lucian." He mumbled, quickly picking up a few boxes. They looked a little too heavy for him, as he was losing balance while walking up the stairs (I had to save him from falling twice).

"Aaron, are you sure you don't want me to take one of those boxes off your hands?"

"Nope!" He replied over the boxes. "I don't want your dainty hands getting all sore with these. Besides, some Bugs can carry up to fifty times their own weight! This should be a walk in the park for me!" He cheered, picking up the pace in his walking.

"You are not a Pokémon, though. Lifting something heavier than you results in hernias, Aaron." I pointed out, still managing to walk faster and farther than him.

"I know that! I train with the same capacity as my Bugs, so that they see if I can do it, so can they. It's motivational, plus I'm working on my muscle build!" he called from behind me. I slowed my walking so he could catch up.

"That is very commendable. You are an exceptional person, being motivational like that." I heard him mumble embarrassedly behind the boxes. "Although I must ask: what muscle build are you talking about? You're the scrawniest little thing I've ever seen."

"What?!" He kicked open the door to his room, which was already ajar, and stormed in, dropping the boxes carelessly. "I am _not _scrawny! Look at this!" he held out his arm in front of me as I set down his boxes elsewhere. "That right there is well-developed muscle, pure, one hundred percent muscle!"

I grimaced and scoffed. "Those aren't arms, they're bones with sleeves! Even I could tip you over just by breathing on you!"

"What?! Come on, what the Hell! You're such a jerk, Lucian, seriously." He sat huffily on top of some packages and puffed out his cheeks. "You're not exactly the godlike bodybuilder either, four-eyes."

Despite that being an insult, it was still funny. I took no offense to his words. "Unlike most of you alpha-male strongman oafs, I take great pride in my healthy body type. I don't need to be weighed down by unattractive lumps of nerves."

"Are you like, a woman or something? You're real proper and snobbish. Why can't you talk like a normal person?"

"There's nothing wrong with being perfect. And if by 'normal', you mean 'an ignoramus wretch' like yourself, I apologize; I will not dumb myself down for anyone. Just because I'm of a higher echelon of people doesn't mean I'm any less a man, Scrawny." I smirked at him, and he looked completely dumbfounded. "What, didn't think I could play like that, too?"

He blinked, processing my little game in his head. A slow smile stretched across his face and he crossed his legs cockily. "Wise guy, huh? Two can play at this game, pretty boy."

"Prettier than you, Toothpick."

"Oh, you'll see. I'll get you back good, _Lucian darling_. Just you wait."

"I'm a very patient man."

"You're on, Princess!" he jumped off the boxes and held out his hand, waging this war with a handshake. I reciprocated and mentally prepared myself.

It seems as though I have a friendly rival. Cute little Aaron and his smarminess…this will be one Hell of an adventure. I'm quite fine with it, though—I do need a good laugh every now and again.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Aaron is such a cocky little prick. I am so in love with him.**

**I'm quite proud of this chapter only because Aaron's personality is just so perfect. He really is fun to play around with, especially when he has someone on his own egotistical level like Lucian. Aaron's emotions are still pretty vague right now through Ian's perspective, but rest assured Aaron will have his moment in the limelight soon. I just need to develop him a bit more before I can make a chapter on his perspective.**

**The next chapter will have more Lucian/Cynthia themes than Lucian/Aaron stuff, just as a warning. I'm going to mess around with Lucian's love life for a bit before everything comes to the shippy goodness. I'll be up with the next edition pretty soon, hopefully by then I'll have some feedback about this story. Thank you for reading on.**

—**CC **


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:**

**Ugh, I forgot to review my last chapter, so it kind of sucks. Sorry for that. I'll go back and revise it later. So chapter number three! It's an exciting thing to me, getting this much done. Hopefully I'll have some more readers as I go on—I figured I'd update faster the more readers I get. **

**This chapter has heavy teasing. I seriously need to slow down on the EU content, but it's just so sweet to write about /cries profusely**

**Well, for now enjoy the delicious ship-tease.**

**Chapter Three: The Metamorphosis, To Use Terms He Would Appreciate**

—**Lucian**

When I was about seven years old, I remember there was a day my brother, who was about three at the time and I were playing on a swing set. We lived in a grand house just above Ecruteak, where the sunset could be seen behind the Burned Tower. In our vast, fairytale-like backyard there was a large swing set that Will used to constantly ask me to play on. Our sister was still too tiny to join us, so those were few times in which it was just two brothers bonding over whatever brothers bond over.

I was pushing Will on the swing, only going so high as directly above my head to avoid any harsh falls. "Ian," he giggled, the first time he tried saying my name which would always stick with me as an affectionate nickname only special people would call me. "Ian! High!" He would squeal, kicking his stubby little legs in excitement.

"Only a little, Liam! I promised mummy not too high!" I would laugh and dub him "Liam" in return for my new name. I always wound up pushing him higher than mum wanted me to. We'd giggle and soon thereafter is a lull in merriment, just silence and swinging.

"Ian," he said, "swing too?"

"But if I stopped pushing you, then you can't swing."

"No. Ian swing now." He would stop himself and fumble off, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the seat. When I sat down, he would try to push me to no avail, but I would start swinging on my own to make him feel like he was doing a good job.

"Ian swing!" He would shout, proud of himself for getting me to have fun, a concept I've long forgotten.

I remember laughing for hours. "Yes, Liam! You're doing it! Thank you for pushing me, too!"

My face was to the orange evening sky and for the first time, I thought about nothing but flying. There are no problems on the swing set. There is no age on the swing set, no time, no thought.

Fast-forward sixteen years.

I grew up. I forgot about the swing set. Someone else who wasn't Will caught wind of my special nickname and started calling me Ian. I learned how to lie. How to pretend. How to fake _anything_.

Two days after befriending Aaron, I woke up next to Cynthia, as usual. The night before was one of sequestered awkwardness, in which I walk in after a day of talking to Aaron, and there was Cynthia sitting on the bed with a bothered expression on her face. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but all I got was the lights turned off on me. It's annoyingly difficult finding the bed in the dark.

And thus starts my morning routine. I wake up at five in the morning for lord knows what reason, step quietly out of bed so I won't wake Cynthia, who has a tendency to oversleep. Downstairs is the kitchen, the kitchen I hate with such a fiery passion; darling is a coffee person, which tips the fragile scale of my morning routine over a never-ending abyss. My tea packets have been replaced by the caffeinated bean-based hate machine. Cynthia hates cream cheese; therefore my bagel-generous-amount-of-cream-cheese-lox system is burned to a crisp.

Let us go back upstairs to what is rightfully my room and take a shower. A hot shower. A scalding hot shower. A fifty-two minute scalding hot spiteful shower to overcompensate for the lack of organic nourishment that is not fueling my body. My suit coat, my expensive, beautiful crimson red suit coat is creased. Cynthia carelessly left it over a seat and now wrinkles will infect my beautiful coat with its unattractive, disgraceful, tasteless disease called ignorance—breathe. Breathe, Lucian, just breathe. It's fine, you can go today without the suit coat. It needed dry cleaning anyways.

Time to go downstairs and read the newspaper and wait until everyone else wakes up, which won't be for another two hours or so. It's my system and nothing new had been added to it which made me think about my life and how much I want it to end.

Well, that was before I saw Aaron making himself pancakes while quietly humming a soothing tune. He noticed me while cracking the eggs he had out on the stovetop.

"Morning, Lucian!" Always so chipper. "I should've known you'd be up at this insane hour, too."

"It's seven thirty, Aaron. There's nothing insane about it." Every thought of self-extermination just sort of vanished into thin air. I fancied myself a smile, taking a seat at the table where the newspaper was neatly set.

"I got that for you, thinking you're one of those guys who likes all that current events crap. I only like the comics." Aaron said as he whisked the eggs.

"Of course you do. You seem like the type to be easily amused."

He looked back at me and glared. "You wanna start something with me this early in the day, pretty boy?" We both started laughing—and so the war continues.

"War doesn't sleep, Scrawny."

"Fine! I was so nice as to bring you the newspaper today and I was even going to offer you breakfast, but we don't serve bacon and eggs to your kind here!" He cried, throwing a piece of bacon in the frying pan.

"I don't need your fake hospitality and tainted meals." I opened the newspaper and skimmed through political jargon and upsetting trivialities. Suddenly a plate appears in front of me and Aaron's scrawny form ghosted next to me. The food was the most heavenly scent to ever grace my nasal passage.

"Call it a truce for now, pretty boy."

I looked down at the mountain of tempting pancakes with a sinful amount of butter cascading down each golden pastry of perfection.

"Thank you, Aaron. This is so thoughtful of you…" He shoved a fork in my mouth to silence me.

"It's a thank you for putting up with me and being the best friend I've ever had. You get my jokes, there's never an awkward moment between us, and you _willingly _wanna hang out with me even though you're an adult. So, uh…thanks." He blushed, looking down and taking the fork away.

I blink a few times. Why was he being so sweet to me? I don't think anyone has ever done so much for me. I just stared at him for a second and he stared back with just as much inquisition. It bothered me that it looked like he was trying to tell me something through his glassy, limpid, green eyes. I have only known him for three days but there is just something about him…I notice I've grown a lot more sarcastic and snide, especially towards Cynthia. I've been picking up on his habits, habits that I would normally find utterly irritating in other people (like mumbling, clicking tongues, cursing every other two words…). The more time I spend with Aaron, which has been practically every hour since he's been here, the more compelled I am to want to return to him.

"…D-don't just stare at me like a moron, Lucian!" He snapped back to reality and in turn reality slapped me with five metric tons of bricks.

"O-oh." I shook my head and mumbled an apology—Ah, that nasty habit. "Forgive me, Aaron."

"It's fine…" His cheeks were red and his hands were shaky, and I probably looked the same to him. I felt myself flush when I saw Aaron embarrassed and jittery. He looked really cute.

Cough. Well, as cute as a foul-mouthed smart aleck can be. There's no crime against complimenting a friend.

"Y-your breakfast is gonna get cold. I didn't slave over a hot stove for nothing, pretty boy." He backed away from me and tended to the mess on the stove.

"Well then let me continue eating and you get back to the kitchen."

"Funny, I thought that rule applied to you, ma'am."

"What was that? I couldn't hear your feeble little voice coming out of that scrawny body." I dodged a wet napkin and laughed at my victory.

I continued to eat my pancakes, oh that delectable taste, and thought of Aaron. I watched him clean the stove, his feet gliding every which way around the kitchen. He had to have the same morning routine as I did: early rise, a shower, breakfast. To think all those lonesome mornings I spent with my tea mug and the newspaper will now be replaced by conversations with Aaron. Yes, that's just what the doctor prescribed, a morning dose of Aaron followed by afternoon wars and mental insults at the dinner table. All this Aaron in my life, I've gotten so hooked I just can't go a day without him giving me a cocky smile and mouthing the words, "You're on, pretty boy." Just think of all the wonderful adventures we can have—not to forget the fact that I _finally _have someone at my caliber to talk to, someone I can identify with!

I have someone.

"…Are…are you _staring _at me?" He asked, giving me an estranged look over his shoulder as he scrubbed the stovetop. How do you make this as not-awkward as possible, Lucian? My eyes traveled to his face and I kept a nonchalant demeanor.

"What if I was?"

"You're a pedophilic freak, looking at little boys like that! This is the second time I've caught you!" He smiled coyly, wiggling his hips. "You like that, don't you?"

I snorted. "Oh yes, you have found my one true weakness."

"I bet. I'd wanna do me too if I were you."

It's as if every other sentence that comes out of his mouth is meant to make me laugh. "That's twelve different kinds of wrong. An under-aged boy fantasizing about being in the body of a man in his early twenties fantasizing lustfully about said under-aged boy? And you call me the freak."

He burst out in that loud, condescending laugh a playground bully would have that I've grown to love so dearly. "Dude, you could write a book about that. Personally I think it'd be a pretty fun thing to think about. Who _wouldn't _fantasize about being Lucian?" He sauntered over to the table and sat down in front of me, pushing my pancakes away.

"I was eating those," what a little jerk. "And that is absurd. No one fantasizes about being me…or _about_ me in general. There's nothing to fantasize about."

"Psh, I can name a whole bunch of reasons."

I opened my mouth to say something, but instead stopped to think of a wittier retaliation to that.

"…So you fantasize about me?"

He became red in record time. "N-no! That's sick! You've got to be pretty full of yourself to think someone would even do that!"

"But you're the one who said you could list the reasons why someone would—"

"I was kidding, geez! Don't take everything so literally, pretty boy!"

"So was I. Plus you're the one who keeps calling me 'pretty boy'. Are you trying to tell me something, Aaron? Hm? Are you hiding something?"

Aaron's mortification turned back into his smug smile. He nodded silently in approval. "Well played, pretty boy. You're getting good at this. Maybe one day you'll be able to surpass the master." He pointed to himself and raised his right brow.

"Tch. Surpass you? I've already won, Aaron. I don't think you've ever beaten me…If anything, _I'm _the master. You still have a lot to learn, my little grasshopper."

"You are so full of yourself!"

"So are you."

"…I cannot tell a lie. You're right about that one, pretty boy. I think that's why we get along so well, though." He jumped off the table and stuck his tongue out at me. "It's been fun playing with you, but I have a routine I like to stick to, which involves me training with my Bugs. You're a distraction, pretty boy."

I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes. "I'm sorry my blinding beauty is too much for you to take. Go train your Bugs, Scrawny."

"Will do!" He ran out the kitchen doors, leaving me alone. Just as I was going to leave as well, he ran back through the doors and stopped me. "Wait, before I go I wanted to ask, well if you were interested, which you probably won't be, but hey, it's worth a shot to ask anyways—"

"Just spit it out, Aaron."

"…Wanna spend our lunch break together? I-in my Gym? We can talk and stuff, plus we won't be interrupted by any of the others…"

Ah, a new event to add to our little routine. I smiled warmly and patted his shoulder. "I would love to. See you at twelve forty-five, Aaron."

I don't think I've seen a bigger smile stretch across his face. "Awesome," his voice became hushed, "See you at twelve forty-five. Bye, Lucian!" He left again, this time for good. It tickles me when he says my name, which isn't too frequent since I've adopted so many terrible nicknames from him. I watched him run down the hall and disappearing behind a corridor.

A contented sigh escaped me, for some odd reason I could hear the steady beating of my heart resonating in my ears. For the first time in a long time, I'm happy. I find myself smiling for no reason sometimes, Flint usually catching it and asking why I'm so perky. It scares him, he says. Ha ha, I don't even know why, I say. All I know is that ever since Aaron arrived, there's something peculiar about me. By this point, I don't care what it is; I just want more of it.

And, as it appears, I will be receiving more of it during lunch today.

**Author's Note: **

**First off: Little Lucian and Will. Oh my god the thought makes me all warm inside. I like to think that when they were really little they had a close bond. There will be more Will and Lucian stuff later.**

**I wasn't planning on making this a cutesy "I like you, I like you too" chapter, this was actually supposed to be a dramatic one. But then I figured it would be too early for problems with these two, I would want them to enjoy themselves and let their feelings for each other grow first. I really, really liked this chapter, so the next one is going to kind of play off of this one, but I'm going to switch perspective. Aaron would be fun to write as. Thank you, faithful readers.**

—**CC **


	4. Chapter 4

**Note:**

**My first perspective change. As much as I didn't want it to be this early, I felt like this would help with tension. Time to break away from the warm and fluffy Eliteunder feelings.**

**I'll leave for now; I'll be back at the end. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: When You're Good to Darling, Darling's Good to You**

—**Cynthia**

It's been the worst week of my life. Two weeks ago, I was being praised. Praised, loved, adored by everyone—adored by my lover. _My _lover. Ian told me I had such a wonderful idea, and I remember that was the last time he kissed me like he meant it. He smiled at me and I kissed him, his thin hands familiarizing my body. One kiss lead to another and soon enough Lucian proved his love to me once more like we've done many nights for almost five years. We're in love, and he wouldn't do anything to hurt me.

But the thing about relationships is that after a while you learn of their habits. Lucian likes to make friends. Oh no, that's not the habit, not at all. But there are some friends he makes that have these little habits that like to get me down.

Aaron loves to curse. Every other word coming out of his mouth is disgusting and offensive, and I have no idea how someone like Lucian could _still _talk to that. I have had to warn that child to watch his language and do you know what he tells me? "Watch my language? What, English too complicated for you?"

And Lucian laughed. He _laughed. _

Aaron likes to mumble. Of course, talking one-on-one for the first couple of times all of his words were comprehensible and clear, but the more comfortable he became around me he began to mumble. He'd mumble things about me when I turned my back. I would only catch snippets of what he'd mumble, but the few times I make something out it is always about me. Lucian has apparently learned this annoying language of Aaron's and tells him to keep his rude comments to himself. What is it that Lucian won't tell me? Isn't it only right for me to know if one of my employees is being snarky and offensive?

Aaron likes to click his tongue. This one I think is a legitimate hate; it's a vulgar sound. You ask him a question, and he clicks his tongue in response when he can't think of a sarcastic-enough response. Instead of calling you by name, he'll click his tongue at you. The worst part? Monday I think he found out that I can't stand that noise. He began clicking his tongue every single time he passed by my. _Click_, smug smile. I turned to him after the umpteenth number of tongue clicks and said, "If you click your tongue one more time…"

And he did.

I almost lost it! I was just about to shoot him in the head _twice! _But no, I kept my cool and just told him to forget it and walked away. I waited for Lucian to come to bed, and being really irritated and looking for a little sympathy, I told him what happened. He told me to calm down, that I'm getting mad over nothing. Then he _clicked his tongue _before going to bed.

Those are just some personal issues, but it extends beyond that.

Two weeks ago before that Hell child came into my League, Lucian and I began living together. I mean outside of the League; we have a Villa in Unova that we want to escape to once the break hits. We'd have a few drinks, have dinner, and be together. It would be heaven and two rooms, but I heard something disturbing on Tuesday. I found out Lucian told Aaron about the Villa—and _failed to mention _that I bought it and it was meant for our getaway—and invited him over for the six-day break during winter. That wasn't meant for anyone else to know, especially since we are trying to keep our relationship very private! Well, keeping our relationship a secret from _Aaron _seems to be no problem! Why would he do something so stupid like that, not even thinking of me at the time?!

On Wednesday I was making dinner, since we alternate on cooking days in the League; the Elites were at the table, waiting for the meal to arrive. As I'm enjoying my time with my friends, Aaron breaks off into his own conversation with Lucian. They were talking quietly to each other, Flint and Bertha not being able to catch a word. Unfortunately for them, I was only about five feet from the whispers.

"Yes, we have been dating for about five years now."

"You're _dating _Cynthia?" The kid was either some kind of angry or disappointed with the choice. "You're _dating _this bitch?"

"Aaron, quiet, she could hear you."

"I don't care. Dude, how do you do it? She's so uptight and bitchy. You could so do better…"

"Aaron, hush! I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"But you trust me enough to not tell anyone else. I won't, I'm just saying that you could do better."

Lucian leaned in closer to the kid and whispered something to him that apparently was funny enough to make that guy burst out in obnoxious laughter.

It's very unwise to say those kinds of things when I have a knife in my hands. Five stabs per back since they both deserved it.

But talking smack about me isn't enough to break their friendship. They have a language now. A language only they understand, some kind of genius-speak that I can't decode. Whenever we're having a meeting, Lucian will make eye-contact with Aaron and smile. Wordlessly, Aaron would nod and make a casual hand gesture, like moving his hair to one side or cracking his knuckles. Lucian would push up his glasses even if they didn't need it. These small movements and subtle noises would go on for the hour or two and it would end with them walking next to each other and holding in laughter. I tried to catch them in the act, but these movements were too natural and casual to look like they meant anything.

"Aaron, what in the world are you doing?"

"What, so I can't sneeze either?"

"You know what you're doing!"

"What? I'm not guilty. What kind of Champion are you, acting all paranoid like a sneeze means something. You feeling alright? Have you been taking pills from shady men with funny accents in street corners?"

Flint burst out in laughter and Bertha let out a chuckle. Lucian bit his lower lip and smiled widely. I looked like a crazy idiot all because of this little smartass kid.

Lucian and I last night were supposed to go on a date. He promised some odd days ago we would. We'd go to that lovely restaurant outside of Sunyshore, a quiet escape from everyone else. I spent the evening getting dressed, flaunting my new sexy black dress I bought with him in mind. Maybe I could spark the fires of passion in our relationship, he'd finally kiss me like he meant it again and touch me like he used to. He wore a gorgeous black suit, the jacket fit to his body. I've always found his elegance completely hot. While I put on my lipstick, he felt his pants pocket and said he left his wallet downstairs. I told him to go get it, that I'll just be one minute more. He left and I put on my stockings. I sat down on the bed and patiently waited for him to come back up. He was gone for thirty minutes. Thirty! Who spends thirty minutes getting their wallet? I can't take it anymore so I go looking for him, tearing up the castle, just about ready to explode.

The one room I didn't check was Aaron's. I made my way back upstairs in heels that were too tall and too skinny. I'm exhausted, angry, dizzy trying to look for my lover. I knock on Aaron's door in the hopes that he'd seen him.

He opened the door, and there Lucian was, sitting on his bed playing a game of Poker or something with him. Something died in me when Lucian nonchalantly looked at me and waved. He'd forgotten. I just closed the door and walked on back to my room, ripping my clothes off and screaming into my pillow. I completely blacked out and a few hours later I woke up, Lucian was still with Aaron. I stayed in my room to avoid getting blood on my hands.

Today Lucian went to the library in Canalave. It's his favorite place to be, and normally I'd join him but I just wanted to stay home. He's really artistic. He's eloquent, cultured, sensitive, intelligent. I've always loved how he was so into the fine arts, so I promote his trips to the library. Today, though, he got lost. On his way to the library he found the park, an ice cream shop, the beach, and the Eterna forest. Of course these areas are beautiful and artistic, but there is a problem. These are places that he goes with me for romantic little escapades. He went to these places today with Aaron.

They are still out. Probably on what is supposed to be _our _midnight walk.

I'm lying here in bed, alone. Lucian probably feels so alive. I want him to feel dead.

That stupid kid! He's the one ruining my relationship, driving a stake between me and the love of my life! He's brainwashing Lucian, making him sarcastic and insensitive! He's stealing what is respectfully mine. Aaron needs to learn his place. Aaron needs to learn not to play with toys that belong to other girls.

I will make sure he gets what's coming to him. In the end, he'll only have himself to blame. Not that I care, because Lucian was never his. Your friend, my boyfriend. He's nothing to me and he will be nothing to Lucian. It's what any devoted lover would do, I'm doing nothing wrong, and anyone else would do the same. Soon, kid. Very, very soon.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I really hate Cynthia. I've never liked her and I just wanted to give myself a reason to detest her more. Hopefully I can make her as antagonistic as I want her to be, so that means be prepared for a big ol' shitstorm coming for Lucian and Aaron. **

**This is unedited, it's one in the morning, I wrote this in like, two hours. I'm confident that this came out just the way I wanted. Please review, those are so appreciated. Thank you for reading.**

—**CC **


	5. Chapter 5

**Noting:**

**I'm so proud of this story. I have faithful followers—you guys are so sweet. Thanks so much for following along! Just a bit of a heads up, this chapter will have perspective changes in between. I'll make this short so you can get to the story. Enjoy chapter five!**

**Speakeasy for the Heart, because I'm Drunk on Love but Tied down to Sobriety**

—**A Very Cheesy and Hopelessly Romantic Lucian**

I used to think the slowest time of day was the afternoon. Lunchtime had always been a quiet, lonely event. Personally, I favored the idea of bringing in my health-conscious salad mix and some tea into the break room and taking my time eating, alone and unbothered.

Much like any given "good thing," my routine came to an end when Aaron rolled around. He comes all the way up to my battle room just to sit and eat lunch with me, chatting about nothing. Recently he's been bringing me food, too: some fast-food mass-produced greasy heart attack that I respectfully decline, but wind up eating anyway because he's right, it's just so delicious. Just don't tell him that. Here I am, contentedly sitting on the floor (not complaining about wrinkles in my pants!) sharing a meal box of french-fries with Aaron. Salt is good for preservation, you know.

The fried and salty aspects of the potato-based snack act as an absorber, making sure I have consciousness enough to remember I'm talking and having lunch, not just mindlessly staring at Aaron. There was a lull in our conversation—it's not uncommon, nor is it awkward between us—so we used the silence to catch up on consumption. I sat adjacent to the smaller boy, angled to where I can still observe him precariously.

I notice when I'm not looking (or when he thinks I'm not) he stuffs his face grotesquely and thoroughly enjoys the fattening food. When I stare, he daintily picks up one french-fry at a time, taking a demure dip into one of many assorted flavored sauces. He eats like a bird when acting primly. He always sits cross-legged, and never slouches. He looks absently at a spot on the ground when chewing, and every now and then he looks up at me and smiles. I never know why he does, but I love it. I love a lot of things about him.

"I ordered the huge ass box of fries so you'd eat them, not to stare at me eating them, you dumb pretty boy." He stated flatly, calmly taking another fry to his mouth. His eyes were still on that blank spot, so I suppose he _did _notice me looking and decided not to acknowledge until now.

"Well, maybe I'm slowing down so that I won't get fat. You give me nothing but lard and sugar on a stick—I've gained three pounds in the past three months with you here!"

Aaron simply laughed and stuffed his mouth comfortably, eyes now on me. "You'd look cute if you were a fat boy. I'd have more stuff to make fun of you. Fatass Lucian." He guffawed, covering his mouth. I rolled my eyes.

"I am _not _fat. You, on the other hand…well, perhaps I've seen a little bit of flabby skin spilling out from the bottom of your vest." He choked and coughed up the chewed food, giving me a look of disdain.

"Please, I'm skinnier than you! You're just jealous of my hot body!" Oh, I love this boy's sense of humor.

"I'm not jealous of you. As I've said many times before, I love my physique." I took a fry and resumed eating before Aaron decided to take away the meal box. "I was kidding about you being fat. Take a joke, Scrawny."

He smiled and scooted closer to me. "Shut up, pretty boy."

I know this process well. We wound up having a laugh, and whenever Aaron called me pretty boy in the midst of our conversation, he'd come closer to me. He'd get so close, our hands would almost touch, but we'd avoid moving those hands which… which made me a little sad, to be honest. It's like he would move closer because his purpose was to touch hands, yet it never happened. It's a trivial part of our routine, but that detail bothers me. If he's going to touch my hand, why doesn't he just do it?

…And then I realize, just like for the last three months, I'm thinking about holding a seventeen year-old boy's hand. That's just wrong and disgusting and goes against every fiber of my being. Although, I do have something to confess: for three months, I've been talking to Aaron. Talking, sharing personal stories, buying each other lunch, going out to different places when we're bored…I've never liked people who do things on the spur of the moment, because it ruins a system I have going. Aaron came into my life and that thought was changed. Like I've said before, I love a lot of things about him. When I say "love," I mean I wouldn't be as attracted to Aaron as I am now without those qualities.

There's that word again, "attracted." I hate the connotation that comes with that word. I'm attracted to Aaron. That's the statement, I am attracted to Aaron. It's true that I am, but what is it about this platonic sentence that has an underlying message I'm subconsciously reading into? The word "attract" means that I gravitate towards, that I am fond of whatever the subject is, in this case Aaron. To be attracted to someone means to be fond of them. Fondness is liking, and liking is a juvenile term for longing romantically. Therefore, one can misconstrue my attraction towards Aaron as romantic.

Do I deny it? Well, no one has ever asked. Am I prepared to answer that question? Not at all. Hesitation usually indicates a "yes," however…

"You know what freaks me out? When you get really quiet like that. It's like, 'what the [data expunged] is he thinking,' I ask myself. Seriously, I mean, you tend to just space out of our conversations and stare at me with this intense look on your face, like you're trying to read my mind. Sure, it only lasts a few seconds, but you just look so concentrated. Do you sense a disturbance in the force or something?" My inquisitive lunch buddy gave me an estranged expression and made some kind of disgruntled noise when I slowly came back to reality.

"…What?"

"You weren't even listening to me!" Caught in the act, I admit. "Is that how you're able to tolerate me? Do you just space out on purpose and think, 'Oh my God, when is he going to shut up?' Seriously, Lucian. Seriously. That's a douche move." Aaron curled into a little ball of disappointment and muttered to himself. I sighed.

"I always listen to you. You'd think after three months you'd be able to tell when I'm listening and when I'm not." I pouted, but Aaron still kept his knees to his chest and his head down. "…I'm sorry for not listening to you, Aaron. That was a wrong on my part. I'm also sorry for the tendency to forget about you every now and again to fall into my own little world. Forgive me?"

My small friend looked back up at me with those bitter green eyes—beauty and bitterness work in tandem so commonly, no?—and nodded. "It's okay, Lucian. I'll admit my attention span isn't that great either, but I stay focused whenever I'm talking to you. You grasp my attention, like a Beautifly caught in an Aradios web."

I smiled at his simile—what a smart, smart boy he is—and felt relieved at his forgiving nature.

"But I've noticed that you never spaced out as frequently as you do now. Yeah, it used to happen sometimes when we first met but you've become more and more out of it. Are you feeling okay?" He asked in a sympathetic tone (another quality I love about him: that hidden soft heart beneath the sarcasm).

"Well, to be honest…" I had every intention of telling him how I felt, how I am attracted to him but not _attracted _to him. Unfortunately, our fun came to an end when Cynthia came into my battle room.

"H—oh. Afternoon, you two." She said in a resentful tone. "Break time's over, both of you to your posts now." Her order was unnecessarily stern but understood, so I stood and helped Aaron up. "Hurry up, Aaron, it's a long way back to your position. You shouldn't be messing around in other people's areas."

"You shouldn't be such a bitch." He mumbled, turning on his heel and angrily marching out. "See you later, Lucian."

His farewell sounded detestable, which hurt me inside. I looked at Cynthia and something inside of me wanted to scold her for being so uncouth to my friend, but my job would be at risk.

…Oh, and our relationship, too. I forgot about that.

"Stop distracting the new kid and get your stuff together, Ian," was the last poison-tongued sentence she spewed at me before spinning away with her nose in the air. How completely rude. Aaron had been spending lunch with me for three months and he always left ten minutes before break was over. I guess I lost track this time and he was caught in Cynthia's unexplainable rage. I'll apologize to him later when she's not around.

She's not as darling as I used to think.

**She's the kind of Person Pestilence Exists For**

—**Aaron **

Leave it to the selfish alpha woman to completely screw up a perfectly good afternoon. I've been eating lunch with Lucian for a billion days and the one day I get caught all Hell breaks loose. I know, I know, he's dating her and she's my boss, so I'm obliged to be nice to her. But let me ask you something: if the guy you're madly in love with is dating the embodiment of Hell, wouldn't you be singed too?

O-okay, I admit, I like Lucian. I like him a lot. Love is a pretty strong word to use in circumstances like this. It's an undying crush I've had on him since before I even met him. I saw him on TV a year and a half ago battling some guy with a team of Dark types. Had it been me in that position, I probably would've thrown the white flag and let him pass through me. But you know what he did? He calmly closed his book (which revealed the prettiest face in the world. Fucking pretty boy) and smiled. In itself, that smile stole my heart away. Sincere and confident, but you could tell he _knew _he was better than his opponent. Lucian just has this way of battling; his voice is beautiful, you can hear virtually every letter per word he speaks. His commands are short yet effective. Above all, he looked hot doing it (that suit is so sexy). It only took one Pokémon to defeat the entire Dark type guy's, Lucian's defense-crazy Bronzong. The guy shat bricks when he lost and Lucian simply walked up to him, held out his hand and said he had a good match. Yeah, good only because he won. But even if he had lost, I don't think my opinion of him would've changed. It's that smile of his. Because no matter the outcome, he's _still _better than everyone else.

Why am I so attracted to the perfect narcissist? Because he's cocky in a way that isn't condescending—until he gets behind closed doors. He has this sarcastic air around him that pisses me off so badly, I can't help but to come back for more. He is literally the smartest person I know, and with knowledge of that caliber, you are entitled to feel like you're above society. It's true. Most people I've seen associate with Lucian are retarded, like his bitch girlfriend, and his sarcasm is just so advanced it goes over their heads. I don't think anyone has ever caught on, so I took it upon myself to challenge him a bit. I like to think I'm better than everyone too, so it only makes sense that the two most conceited people in the region would be at odds. I wanted to see just how far his elegant façade could hold until I wound up tearing it down.

It didn't work.

Like I said, he's the smartest person I know. With great knowledge comes a copious amount of wit that I'll never have. But that elegance, that cockiness, that stupidly sexy way with words and cool exterior—I want to be just like him. When that event came up three months ago, I jumped right on it. I needed to be closer to my role model and I praised whatever mirthful Messiahs backed me up in winning. That's another surprise on its own, a small-town Bug type user from Eterna becoming an Elite. Most people would think I'm optimistic and stupid, too. I'm not an idiot, I just play one on TV.

And despite my spiteful views on the world and all who inhabit it, Lucian appreciates me for it. He likes being with me, talking about the stupid shit I've always wanted someone who understands it with me. Everyone I know is a dumbass cockswab ignoramus retard, except Lucian. He understands me. _That's _why I feel breathless around him, that's why I want to be closer to him than just friends, that's why I dream that one day—one day!—he'll see we could mean something and I'll finally have him in my arms with my fingers running through his luscious lavender hair and his hot soft lips pressing against my longing skin—

_Gasp. _Breathe. Breathe, Aaron. Don't get hot under the collar now. Because not only do you sound like a shitty erotica fan fiction, it's really gay. Stop that.

I'm not in the mood to fantasize about Lucian anyways, because stupid Cynthia killed everything. Normally I go back to my post ten minutes before break is over to avoid this kind of crap, but Queen Needs-to-get-Bent caught me this time. I guess I got so caught up in talking I forgot what time it was. Right now I'm pissed, getting to my post as quickly as possible, ready to take out all my rage on the piece of shit trainer who isn't worth my time.

Ever wonder how I battle so well? Anger issues. They fuel my will to win and beat the crap out of the other guy.

Well, the outcome of the battle was another hard win for me. Fucking Fire type users think they're so much better than me. I'm glad I won that one. That's enough rain on my parade for one day. Now I'm walking faster than normal so I can just get upstairs and scream into my pillow in the sanctity of my room.

I really want to go find Lucian and take him to my room—not to do anything stupid, just talk like we always do—because I've been deprived of him for a while. Sadly, the slutbag has Lucian for the night out. I pray someone comes by and steals her or something. I hate her so much.

I'm still angry as shit and there's nothing I can do about it. I want Lucian. I want him right here with me and that stupid fucking bitch ripped him away from me—

"Yo, Ronnie!" Oh, shit that scared me. Breaking out of the dark thoughts brewing in my corrupted mind, I almost fall back to see a huge obnoxious red afro staring me in the face. Well if it isn't the resident funny guy.

"Oh. Hey, Flint." I say a little too harshly. He whistles and gives me a concerned look.

"What's wrong, bro? I know you're always mad like you've got a Bug up your ass, but you look like, _disturbed _and pissed. You okay?" He raises a hand to my shoulder and shakes it a bit. I breathe in deeply and exhale slowly so that I won't blow up at him.

"I'm not. I'm not okay, Flint. I want to put a giant bomb in the center of the earth and blow it up so I'll never have to deal with this ever again."

"Aw, bro, you don't have to feel that way. Let's talk about this." He pushes me up the stairs and all the while I'm shouting curses at him. Flint never gives and he manages to throw me into my room. I flop on my bed in defeat and he sits next to me. Flint is one of those guys who make you feel good with all his easygoing balderdash and personable attitude. You also get a bad case of the munchies around him.

"I seriously don't want to talk about this," I mumbled, grabbing my pillow that's been there to catch my tears since I entered teenagerdom.

"It'll make you feel better, bro. So tell me what's up." He lied on his belly and kicked his flip-flops off. "Being pissed all the time will make you grow old faster. You're too young to hate everything, anyways."

"Sigh. It's not that I hate everything. I just hate everyone. Well, no, I mean I hate people. Certain people, you know?" Either that munchies effect is making me open up or Flint is a wizard. I still don't want to talk about it, though. What if he doesn't understand? No one ever does.

"What kind of people? Like, jerk trainers or like, people that I know that you're calling 'certain people' to protect their identity?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that." I hate it when people can read me. "It's not a big deal, seriously. Why do you even care? You hardly know me."

"Three months is enough time for me to know a little. I'd know you more if you didn't spend every single second with Lucian." Flint snorted, not noticing the shiver that went through my body when he said that name.

"Well…that's the thing. I guess. Look, seriously, I don't want to talk about it, you wouldn't even understand…"

"Is it about Lucian?"

I look at him with the most disgusted face I can fake. "What about him? That's irrelevant to—"

"Think about it! You're always with Lucian. You're like, attached to his hip. I've never seen anyone be so clingy to him, not even Cynthia. And you have this tendency to become an asshole whenever Lucian leaves your presence. He's kinda like a tranquilizer."

I hug my pillow closer to my chest and keep as good of a poker face as I can. "That doesn't mean anything. And I reiterate: that's irrelevant…"

"Is it? I dunno, let's say for all intents and purposes he is like your drug. But when you go a second without him, you go Primape shit on everyone because of Lucian withdrawal. You need him every day because you're nothing without him. So this means one of two things, Ronnie." He became super serious, which is scaring me because I'm sure he figured it out.

"One, you're shootin' Energy Root through your veins with Lucian," Okay, never mind, I can't take him seriously.

"Flint, no. I'm not an addict and I don't know what caused you to think that Lucian is, too. Any theory of yours that has to do with drugs or clubbing or any other retarded illegal shit is wrong." I'm getting a headache. I'm rubbing my temples as Flint gives me a considerate look, like he's processing what I said.

"Ohhh. Well that clears everything up." He laughs and I give him a dry sarcastic chuckle.

"Yeah, glad I can give you an insightful look into my life."

"I'm just glad you're not doing anything dumb. Too young, bro, too young." His laugh is kind of slow and light and I think I smell something burning in here now.

"You can trust me, I'm against all that stuff. Lucian doesn't do that either. Well, not entirely. Did you know he took up smoking about two years ago? The stress was getting to him so badly he thought he needed a relaxer. He quit the same year he started, but he still has these really cool pipes—like the mobsters have in those old movies." I chuckle and start to feel a bit more relaxed around Flint, seeing no problem in openly talking about Lucian in front of him. Maybe it's that munchies effect again.

"No way," he said in that sleepy astonished voice, "Bookworm bro was a puffer? I've known him for six years and I never thought he did!"

"Ha ha, yeah, I didn't know either! He says he'll use a pipe during _very _special events, but nothing more. The same thing goes for drinking. Normally he doesn't drink but he does enjoy wine, specifically any reds. He told me he'll only have more than one glass if he's having a get together with his siblings. Did you know both of his siblings are Elites, too? His brother Will is a psychic, too, but Shauntal is a Ghost type user. And they're not legit siblings, they're both half. His mom got around, he said. He's from Johto but moved here when he was like, seventeen for college. Did you know he teaches? He's a freaking teacher, bro! That's what he does when he's not here on weekdays. He teaches seniors, I think some Lit. class. I'm gonna be a senior next year, so I'm gonna try to get into his class—well, I need to move to the school he teaches at, first. But I will!" I didn't realize I was rambling on and on about Lucian's life until I saw Flint with the biggest, stupidest stoner smile on his face.

"Whoa. I didn't know most of that, 'cept for the teacher part. You have gotten further into Bookworm Bro's brain in three months than the rest of us have in five to nine years, longer if you're Cynthia. You two got connections, man. No wonder you're always together, you two are like…soul mates."

I think I choked on my own saliva. "What."

"Yeah, man. Both of you click so well. Are you like, dating Bookworm Bro? Why haven't you told me, man? I would've thrown a party or something…"

I seriously don't know if he's just high or if what he's saying is genuine. But I'll play along just to humor him. "I'm not dating him. He's straight."

"How do you know that? I don't see a ring on him."

"He's dating a woman, you retard."

"Whoa. No way. I never got hetero vibes from him—it's the hair, man—that's totally news to me. Who's the chick?"

"Some bitch."

"Whoa, like leather and whip kind?"

"Somewhat. He's dating Cynthia."

I guess that statement kicked the ganja out of his system and brought him back to a frightening reality. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up! You're not serious, are you?!"

I look at him flatly. "Dead."

His mouth formed an "O" and I could almost hear the glass breaking in his fragile stoner mind. "No way." He began to laugh in bitter disbelief. "No. That's just wrong, man. Is that how he got to be fourth Elite? How long have they been dating?"

"Five years. Cynthia's been Champion for nine. So has Lucian, but he was inducted six months before Cynthia. So sleeping his way to the top didn't happen, but it does explain why they were always together at one point, giggling and shit like schoolgirls."

"…That's messed up. I can't see them together. Maybe it's because I'm used to seeing you and him a lot more often than them or…"

"They've been trying to keep their relationship on the down-low for years. They wouldn't want people to assume Lucian got to where he is through dirty bargains. I told Lucian I would keep it a secret, but fuck it, I can't. I'm so mad at that. I just can't." My grip on my pillow tightened. I finally told someone they were dating. I do feel bad because it's inconsiderate to Lucian, but anything to spite that bitch Cynthia.

"…Must've been hard for you to hear that he and Cynth were…you know…" His expression was somber as was his voice. I looked down and dug my nails into the pillow.

"What do I fucking care? It's _his _life. I'm not a part of it. I never was and never will be. I'm just a friend, nothing else."

"Sounds like you care more than you want to."

I threw down my pillow. "So what if I fucking do?! It doesn't matter! Okay, look, she has him and I don't, that's the end of that! Nobody cares how I feel about this, and I don't have a place to say anything! It's one big world filled with 'no.' No I don't care, no it's not fair that Cynthia has Lucian, no Lucian will _never _feel the same fucking way I do! I don't know why you want to know any of this, but all I know is right now I just want to be left alone! Get out of my room, you insufferable fuckhead stoner prick! I just…I just…"

Fuck, the tears are coming. God, no, please don't cry in front of him please don't cry—

"I just…I just want him to know how I feel for him!" My paper-thin willpower broke and I started bawling like a little girl. Shit. I hugged my knees to my chest, crying loudly, sniffling like a freaking baby in front of Flint, who wasn't fazed one bit by my revolting tantrum. I think having the outburst in front of somebody who didn't deserve it made me feel worse, so I just kept crying. I was crying so hard, I completely detached myself from the persona I made for myself—snarky and not giving any fucks, but sadly, I _am _giving a fuck, giving a fuck about Lucian. Now the world can see who I really am: an over-emotional bag of PMS who can't articulate his feelings without cursing or threatening to rip someone's face off. No wonder he'll never feel the same for me. I hate myself so much for being this way.

In the midst of my gross sobbing and self-loathing, I felt myself being pulled into a hug. My head hit Flint's chest, and his hand was rubbing soothing circles on my back. For the first time, I felt like someone actually listened to me when he did that. Someone actually sat through one of my emotional breakdowns.

"It's okay, lil bro. Let it all out, man. No one's judging."

I cried twice as hard.

I just stayed there, holding Flint and crying into his chest for what felt like hours. Three months. Three months of these feelings building up inside of me and I'm finally given the opportunity to show. Somehow it was fitting that I was in Flint's arms instead of Lucian's. There was a voice in the back of my head saying, "Who are you kidding? He'd never feel the same. He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't comfort you." The more and more I let this voice get louder, the more I started to believe it. I

"You good, bro?" Flint asked softly once my crying was reduced to sniffles and hiccups. I nodded. I didn't look at him.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm good." He let me go and kept his hand on my back, patting me.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"I…I don't know. Am I _in love _with him? Is that why I feel like ripping my heart out from my chest and stomping it into the ground whenever I see him and Cynthia hold each other? Is that why I close my eyes in bed and imagine him whispering 'goodnight' to me instead of her? Is that why I look at him and think he's never going to know any of this?"

Flint exhaled and clicked his tongue. "If it quacks like a Ducklett…"

"Then yes, I do. I love him. I'm in love with Lucian. There, I said it. I'm in love with him." My heart hurt when I said it. My shoulders slumped and I crossed my legs. "But what's the point? He's not gonna know. And if he does, that's why he hasn't said anything: because he doesn't feel the same."

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't say that. Have you even _asked _if he likes you?"

I shot him a look that hopefully conveyed how stupid he is. "You don't just ask your heterosexual man-crush if he likes you, Flint."

"How would you know? You've never tried it." I wanted to punch him.

"Were you born this stupid or am I just that privileged?"

"Well you're obviously feeling better," he snickered, "Which is a good thing. Now your brain is free of all that pent-up rage. Was that so hard?"

"I feel like I'm getting some kind of prolapse just by talking to you."

"Good! Now that it's out of your system, you can get on with it." His smile was so stupid it hurt.

"Get on with what?"

"Your life! You need to stop thinking all that negative stuff about Bookworm Bro not liking you and start believing he does. When you believe, so it shall become." Flint turned to the ceiling and held up his hands as if to summon the power within.

"Yeah, okay Socrates, I get it, now would you kindly get the fuck out of my room?" I said. I guess I do feel a little better. Flint laughed and jumped off my bed, casually walking out my door.

"Later, Ronnie. Have fun with trying to get Bookworm Bro to love you." And with that he was gone. Lucky for him, I was just about to throw my lamp at him had he not gotten out faster.

It's late, anyways. I don't want to deal with anymore shit than I already have today. Time for bed. But as I lay here, just thinking about what stonerface said, I wonder…maybe just telling him would magically make Lucian love me back.

Maybe. Probably not, because that's just how life works.

All I can do it hope for the best. Yawn.

**WELL NOW.**

**I am so proud of this, you guys don't even know. I loved writing in Aaron's perspective; it helped em vent a lot, 'specially since I just went through a very nasty break up. It feels awesome being free, guys. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter, because this one is currently my favorite. I'll be up with six hhhhhhooooooopeeeefuuuulllll yyyy in a week or so. Thank you all so much.**

—**CC **


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: There are explicit scenes in this chapter. If sexual themes offend you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way, please skip all of the first perspective or the chapter in its entirety. Thank you.**

* * *

**When Something is too Good to be True, it Probably Is **

—**Aaron**

I woke up this morning in a better mood than I thought I would. I went to bed thinking about Lucian, probably dreamt about him, too. If all I can hope is for a better tomorrow then maybe things won't be as bad as I thought they would be.

Starting my morning routine, I shower, get dressed, and go downstairs to make myself breakfast, waiting for Lucian. Just because my feelings make it a little bit more difficult to be around him, I won't let them completely take over my life. In all honesty, my friendship with him means more than the world to me. I'm not going to let myself ruin it. It's almost seven thirty. He'll be coming soon.

As expected, Lucian came downstairs, a little sleepier-looking than usual. He didn't shower, he still had on a robe and his pajamas, his glasses were askew, and his hair was in a hot, poufy mess. It looked adorable.

"Morning, pretty boy." I say, making the two of us some waffles. Remembering his hatred for any other beverage in this world, I also got to buy him some tea while I was out one day, so the kettle was ready on the stove just for him.

He gave me a cute, tired groan and sat down, his face planted on the table. Immediately I run over to him, letting the waffles burn, and pick his head up. He looked into my eyes with the saddest, emotionless void that was currently spiraling within his own eyes. "Lucian, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Aaron…I'm so exhausted. I don't know what I'm doing anymore." He whispered, his lips hardly moving which made all his words sound jumbled.

"What do you mean, Lucian? Are you okay?" I kept my hands cupped on the sides of his face, stroking my thumb in circles on his cheek. He found some sort of comfort in that.

"_Groan_…It's Cynthia. She has been nothing but antagonistic about my relationship with you. She's becoming jealous that I have a close friendship with you, and the fact that you and I have talked more in three months than she has with me in ten years." Those magnificent lavender eyes staring at me were glossed over, half-lidded with his long, curly eyelashes hitting the lens of glasses. They looked so dull, so sad and empty it was starting to make me feel bad, too. His face is so warm, and his lips were parted only slightly, with his two front teeth hitting his bottom lip.

Lucian just looked so lonely. So depressed. But what can I do to make him feel better?

This certainly comes to mind: There are so many opportunities right now for me to kiss him. My hands are holding his face, tilted right up at me. I'm thinking to myself, yes, go on and kiss him! Everything will be better if you just do it—he'll kiss you back and he'll be happy and you two will be together forever in love. But I can't. He won't feel what I feel and I'm literally just dying inside, screaming louder and louder: "Kiss him, you fuckass! Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him! You'll never get another chance like this!" While I'm considering the idea, my lips part slightly but I get too scared…

"I-I'm sorry you had to go through that yesterday…" _Fuck! _I can't do it. I'm way too afraid. "I'm sorry for getting you into trouble and I'm sorry she's such a bitch to you."

Lucian's lips curved into a smile and his voice grew sympathetic. "Oh, no," he cooed, voice still hushed, "It was not your fault, Aaron. We both lost track of the time and there's nothing we can do about it. I'll be fine."

Oh my god that voice and those bedroom eyes are killing me. I want to so badly—he hasn't even moved, or made an attempt to! "Are you sure? If it's too much of a problem, I will stop having lunch with you just so that you won't get into trouble…" It hurt me to say it, but I don't want him to be chewed out for having fun.

"Oh, no, please don't do that…" Dear lord, the_ desperation_ his voice. "I still want you around; we just have to be a little more cognizant of the time. We shouldn't let one little slip up ruin what we like to do." Lucian's stony expression became softer, and his words melted into my ears. It was just the sweetest thing, him wanting lunch with me even if he knew Cynthia would scold him every time. If that isn't caring, I don't know—

No. No, it's just caring. _Just _caring.

"Well, if you don't mind being chewed out after lunch every day, then count on me being there. But at least let me take some of the blame for you. It's not your fault I get a box of fries for two." We both chuckled a bit.

"I wouldn't give it up for the world, Aaron. I am not letting go of the closest friend I've ever had just because an obsessive woman has envy issues." His smile grew bigger and all those pretty tea-stained teeth shone right at me.

"An obsessive woman who happens to be your girlfriend." I don't even know why I had to correct him, but I'm rather glad I did. With my hands still on the sides of his face and our eyes locked on to each other's, I could've instead made it complete with a kiss, but didn't.

"I'd forgotten all about that." He slurred sleepily. "I blame my flightiness on you. Not that I mind it…" And then came a lull. God, I hate lulls. Those stupid awkward silences kill me because I get nervous. I never know what he's thinking all those seconds of agonizing silence. All he ever does is stare into my eyes intensely, much like he's doing right now. Expressionless, intense staring.

Within this silence, I realized my hands were still on him. To avoid further embarrassment, I was seconds away from pulling them back when all of a sudden Lucian raised his hands to my face and shushed me.

"Don't pull away." He whispered, using his thumbs to move my hair away from my face.

"Lucian, are you okay…?" He could me off with another shush. A soft, prolonged shush. A tiny grin on his lips was the last thing I saw before I was pulled. I was going to scream, but the second it happened, I realized what he was doing.

My body kind of fell on his, my legs awkwardly trying to keep me up, but the bends in my knees gave out and I slumped against him. The only thing keeping me from sliding off completely were my hands which moved from his face to his shoulders. Our legs were intertwined almost uncomfortably but neither one of us made an effort to move. His fingers were knotted into my hair and with those fingers he pulled again, my nose bumping into his before our lips sealed. The tea kettle began to whistle louder.

Only for what I can assume is a millisecond, my eyes widened. My lips were on Lucian's. His eyes were closed and his breathing slowed. The impossible had been done—I was kissing Lucian.

_Kissing Lucian._

Well, more like he was kissing me. It was simple, our lips pressing against each other, heads tilted, and my fingers gripping tightly on his shoulders as I breathed in sharply through my nose, kissing him. But it is the most exhilarating thing I've ever experienced. His lips are soft, softer than I ever could've imagined. It was the heated, passionate, soul-searing kiss that comes at the end of every romance story.

This kiss lasted so much longer than it should have. A quick kiss would've told me everything, but Lucian not pulling away—if anything, keeping me close, trailing one hand down my spine and keeping the other at the back of my head—this was real. My heart is going to explode and my mind is shutting down. I forgot when I closed my eyes and kissed back, but I did, and with gusto. He pressed his lips harder against mine and made a faint, luscious sound that made me melt all over him.

"N—nn…" Those sweet little noises he made whenever I tilted my head to give him better access drove me insane. I needed to hear more of him. My body grew a mind of its own, my hands rubbing Lucian's delicious flat chest and the smooth curves of his hips. This is almost too much, but like Hell I'm going to stop now. I bit his lower lip and he gasped, perfect for me to slide my tongue across his teeth. I opened my eyes slightly, as did he, and he let out the hottest, most desperate moan before sticking out his tongue, waiting. I licked his tongue slowly, tasting him, savoring him. He caught my tongue with my teeth and he swirled around mine, the both of us fighting for dominance. We rewarded each other with sweet, audible moans and grunts, and Lucian was more than generous in giving those out.

"Aaron…" He whispered in between the kiss, his wet lips against mine. I said his name in response and attacked his lips again, the lower half of my body began rocking against his.

"Lucian…Lucian…" I said his name in three second intervals against our kiss, gradually getting louder and louder. This situation is taking a direction it shouldn't be. But I don't want to stop it.

Lucian broke off momentarily to catch his breath, shifting his eyes down to our hips. When I realized what I was doing, I slowed to a stop, mumbling an apology.

"I didn't say you could stop." He smiled and bit his lower lip, looking back into my eyes and grinding his hips in tandem with mine.

I threw my head back and gasped. "Oh f-fuck!" I couldn't stop swearing. I couldn't stop grinding. I couldn't stop the situation. He was teasing me so much, what else could I do? I tried grinding back harder, but my thrusts were so inexperienced in comparison. The friction in our pants was starting to take its toll; my hard-on grew instantly and it pressed against Lucian's middle.

He noticed. The embarrassment I felt at that moment was too much to bear. "Excited already? My, my, I thought you were one to put up a fight…" He purred, reaching his hand down to give my erection a squeeze. I groaned and grit my teeth, trying to stay focused. I can't believe Lucian was actually saying this to me, doing what he's doing. It's like some kind of a dream, and if it is, I don't want to wake up.

"Fuck…I can't help it. But in my defense, I'm not the only one." Thank God my quick thinking kicked in. I shot down my hand and grabbed onto the growing bulge in Lucian's pants, massaging him. "You like how it feels?"

He responded with a loud, shocked moan. "Oh, Aaron!" His palm brushed against my privates in rough caresses just as I was doing to him.

I purred at his words and slid my hand from his clothing and down his pants, grabbing onto his length. "Fuck yes," I leaned in closer to him and spoke right against his parted lips, "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

Lucian whined and closed the small gap between us, kissing me rougher than before. There was this gradual heat intensifying in the kitchen, making the both of us start to sweat. I kept my lips locked on his, stroking him off from under his pants, making him squeal and moan in delight. I thought wasn't very good at this, but Lucian's reactions said otherwise. There was no build up or teasing, just my hand around his hard cock, jerking him off fast. Three months of sexual tension building up and I finally have the opportunity to pleasure him like I've wanted to. It felt so empowering, making an experienced grown man whimper your name in the most intimate way.

Lucian gripped onto my shoulders and left my mouth, pulling my head close to him and he whispered to me. "P-please—ahn!—please keep going!"

I pumped my hand faster, causing him to buck his hips up with each stroke. "Oh Lucian…I've wanted you for the longest time…"

Not long after I said that, I started feeling my hand get wetter and stickier. "Lucian, you're…"

He closed his eyes and his face reddened immediately, yelling out my name. "A-Aaron, I'm…!" Before he could finish, he bit down hard on his lower lip and whimpered. His cock twitched in my hand and hot spurts coated my fingers. Lucian panted when he was done, and his half-lidded eyes looked up at me.

"Sorry…" He said as I pulled my hand out of his pants. I smiled at him and stuck two fingers into his mouth.

"You don't need to apologize, just clean up the mess you made." With a slow 'mm-hm,' Lucian sucked on my fingers, his tongue eventually licking my entire hand. He made sure there were no remnants of his cum before pulling away.

I used the hand he diligently cleaned to move hair out of his face. "You really are a pretty boy. You're twice as pretty when you're being pleasured." He blushed and pursed his lips. I laughed a little and kissed his forehead. "I'd like to see you like that more often. Maybe you and I can fool around a little bit more before the others come down for breakfast."

Lucian raised his eyebrows and hummed. "Right here on the table? My, you certainly are adventurous." One of his hands traveled down my back and stopped at my ass.

The kettle whistled higher and we both whipped out heads to the stove.

"…Ah, it's burning…" Lucian said dreamily, very nonchalant about the stove being on fire. The waffles were burning into a cancerous black and the tea was bubbling out of the kettle. Oops.

"Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit —" Reluctantly I jumped off of Lucian and ran to the stovetop, slipping on some oven mitts and began to pat out the flames with a towel, then removed the tea kettle. I ruined our moment. Shit.

When the stove was cleared, I heard Lucian laughing lightly. I turned to him and embarrassedly trailed back to him, sitting on the table and avoiding his gaze.

"You're cute." He said plainly, reaching a hand up to caress my cheek. I blushed redder than a Tomato Berry.

"You…I really—I mean, you really—I just…I…sigh. I think you're cute, too." If any time were as good a time to tell him I love him, it would probably be now. But when I opened my mouth, he began talking first.

"Aaron, before you say anything, I just want to clear some things up. That was one of the most wonderful things I have ever experienced. I'm more than pleased that it happened, but the fact of the matter is that it _happened_. It probably won't happen again because in all honesty, I wanted to try that out of curiosity. I did want you, but now that the want has been fulfilled I won't need that again. It was more so to clear my mind of unwanted thoughts about my friend. Much like my views on intercourse in general, it was a meaningless experiment to see if I was truly into you. As it turns out, I'm not. I was just feeling adventurous is all. We don't need to continue, nor do I really want to."

By that point the high I was on came crashing down spiraling into a deep dark pit of Hell.

"I've never been keen on men, much less a boy six years younger than me, so I needed to know if this was what I wanted. Besides, I still have Cynthia. It'd be wrong to leave her for something that won't last—this was a spur of the moment deal."

And from that dark pit it sunk lower until it reached an eternal fire that would make it suffer until the world ends.

"So I apologize for reeling you into this spontaneous whirlwind of lust. Hopefully there are no hard feelings. Thank you for you cooperation, however."

I felt like ripping my heart out of my chest and flaying it shred by shred until I felt nothing, because that's exactly what he feels for me. Nothing.

"I knew it was a mutual curiosity. Well, we got it over with and found that we are not romantically compatible." He smiled sweetly as if this was the easiest thing in the world to say. I felt my feelings for him dissipate completely.

"…Yeah."

He tilted his head and grew a worried expression. "You didn't feel anything…did you..? I mean, you're young and you don't know any better. I knew you wouldn't object to casual sex because of your age, but there wasn't anything more to it, was there?"

I smacked his hand away and the pain in my chest manifested itself into a livid rage. "No, I felt nothing. I feel absolutely nothing for you, Lucian. You are literally fucking _nothing _to me. Not romantically, not even friendship-wise. Our entire fucking relationship was a fucking lie. If anything, I fucking _despise you_. I'm glad that you feel nothing for me because that's a load off my shoulders! I won't have to put up with your shit anymore! You are so shallow. You fuck people for kicks? You fuck people so you can tell them afterwards it meant nothing?Do you even realize how fucking shallow that is? Who the fuck do you think you are?! Am I just some whore you can screw around with then throw out because you decide after you blow your load all over me that you don't like guys? You knew I'd agree to casual sex because I'm young? What the fuck gave you the right to assume that I even wanted to jack you off?! But fuck me, right? I'm just a kid. I don't know what I want. Yeah, there's definitely no fucking way I would have real feelings for you, Lucian! Because I'm a kid, and that automatically means I don't have the capacity to love anyone! Fuck that. I hope that when you fuck Cynthia, you feel nothing. That's what you are, an emotionless asshole fuckwit that everyone hates except for your cockwashing, ass-kissing, fake slut girlfriend, who probably acts defensive only because someone told her she can't find anyone better so she settled for _you_. Fuck you, Lucian. The next time you want to experiment on faggoty things like getting hand jobs from underage boys, don't expect me to pick up the phone. I'm done. I'm so fucking done."

The expression on his face was too astonished for words. Hurt, apologetic, appalled Lucian just stared at me with glassy eyes and an agape mouth. I jumped off the table.

"A-Aaron, w-wait, I—"

"Shut your fucking trap, you disgusting, pathetic excuse for a human being. I don't want to hear it." I didn't even look at him. Right now, I'm just sick. I'm sick of him. I storm out of the kitchen, going upstairs to lock myself in my room. I'm nothing. I'm nothing to him.

* * *

**It's Times like these that Make Me Realize I Should've Ended My Life Long Ago**

—**Lucian **

I…I just ruined the best thing that's ever happened to me. No, no, no please don't go! I didn't mean a word of it, I take everything back! You mean everything to me! Just please come back! Please…

Why aren't these words coming out of my mouth I can't speak or scream or run after him—

No. No, no, no, all I can do right now is sit down in the kitchen, my heart shattered into millions of tiny, irregular pieces that can never be fixed. I led him on. I ruined our friendship. I ruined anything that had potential. I single-handedly destroyed the only part of my pathetic life that kept me going. His words—the most hurtful, cruel words I've ever had directed to me—were true. I'm nothing to him. If I was ever something, I burned that idea down to cinders with what I just did. He told me he hated me.

I hate you Lucian. I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

But…but we had something…you felt it as much as I did…

I_ hate _you I _hate _you I _hate _you.

No…please don't say you hate me…I…I don't…

_I hate you, you pathetic, worthless waste of human flesh_.

Aaron's venomous words stabbed my heart over and over and over again. My head is pounding. My chest is tightening. My cheeks are stained with tears I didn't even notice come out of me. My nose is congested. My eyes are red and puffy. I've been sobbing my being out for twenty minutes now. My hands are cradling my head, and the bitter taste of my tears washed away the warm, tantalizing kiss from my lips, leaving no remnants. Why can't I just buck up, run after him, and hold him again? Why is this bothering me so much? I even told myself that I felt nothing, that it was nothing like how I feel for Cynthia—

That's right. It's not how I feel for her because I've _lost_ all feeling for her. I guess I forgot what a real kiss felt like, an exhilarating, complete, real kiss. I lied to myself, I lied to Aaron, and the entire fucking world I've lied to is laughing at me: payback for being happy. What compelled me to say something so idiotic? I am so undeserving of anything after this. What's the point of trying to grab Aaron and pull him back into my life if he's already so certain he hates me? What do I even say? I made the mistake of kissing him and then letting it lead to something more. I should've prepared myself for what would come afterwards.

The worst part about all of this is the fact that I _knew _he felt the same and I still managed to ruin this. He didn't pull away because I finally relieved us of the tension we've been suffering through for three months. I finally kissed him. I kissed him and it was the _best _feeling anyone could ever experience. It was above bliss, above pleasure and ecstasy. I held him as if he had been my lover from the very beginning, our lips meshing to their own accord. That's the first time I've ever touched someone like that. It wasn't mechanical, it wasn't forced. It left me with an insatiable lust for more. One more reason to hate myself more than I already do.

Eventually I ceased crying and felt no motivation for anything. I just want Aaron back.

"…I love you…"

As I whispered those excruciatingly late words, I heard the kitchen door open.

"Ian? What are you doing up so early?"

Oh, wonderful, just what I need: false hope.

Thankfully my sniffling stopped by the time Cynthia walked in. I fixed my glasses accordingly to hide whatever traces of tears I might have had. I cleared my throat and without turning, spoke calmly. "No reason. I was just compelled to be here. I didn't want to wake you." Times I've lied to Cynthia today: one.

Her silhouette snaked beside me; I can feel her condescending glare on me. "Are you sure there was no reason? I thought I smelled something burning down here a while ago…"

I looked up at her sluggishly and shook my head slightly. "I don't smell anything. I came down maybe five minutes ago." Three lies. She gave me an inquisitive look and accepted my fib.

"You could've gotten me up, too, Ian. Five minutes wouldn't have killed me." Her smile bound me to a life of inadequacy. She oozed around the kitchen, preparing her damned cup of coffee as I stared at the kitchen door, waiting for something to save me. Waiting for Aaron to save me.

"So how are you today, hon?" She asked, pretending to care for my wretched existence while replacing the filter. My gaze crept over to her and I glared.

"I've had better mornings. It's rather slow today." Painfully, agonizingly, excruciatingly, mercilessly, slow. It's only going to be slower now that I'm friendless and heartbroken. Standing tall, proper, in her long, thin black nightgown the picture of antagonistic sympathy swam across her face, set neatly on a porcelain canvas of superficial beauty, and she pouted.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry you woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Her eyes were throwing daggers into my heart. "If there's any consolation, I have something planned today for us."

Oh wonderful, I get to spend another day accommodating to the wants and needs of the woman I chose to be my lover. Sometimes I think that these little rendezvous are purposely made to make my day worse. Cynthia is like a placebo: you _feel _like you can get up to live another day, but when the effect wears off, you find yourself with a piece of rope a forty ounce in either hand, standing on the edge of a bridge and you don't know why.

"Sounds delightful."Lie number four. "I could use something to give me a little more pep." Truth! But not from her.

Cynthia clasped her hands together excitedly and gave me a big, toothy grin, which made me wonder if she knew how blatant her criminal intent is. "Perfect! I knew you'd like that!" Lies Cynthia has told me today: too many to count. "Meet me up in my room at seven?"

No thanks, I'd rather sit in my bathtub, my naked body pruning grotesquely as I slit my wrists with a nail file, soon marinating in my own blood, bodily filth, and bath soaps. But if you really insist, so I shall. "Seven sounds great." Lie number five. "I'll be ready by then." Provided I don't bleed out by that point as I bathe.

"Wonderful. Thank you so much, Lucian. I assure you we will have a great time." Lie number ohfuck it I'm through with counting. She came up to me and for a split second I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. Oh no, I thought, she's going to do it. I really don't need this right now. If she does it, I swear my grey matter will be all over her pillow tonight.

She did it. She leaned down and kissed me. She's _still _kissing me. My eyes are shifting back and forth awkwardly; I just want this to end. It's not ending. I start tapping my fingers on the table, singing a song in my head to pass the time. This is lasting longer than it should. Well, this _is _my fault—I _did _want to be tortured to death…

Finally her lips released me and I felt a little bit of my soul being sucked out of my mouth and into her lecherous abyss. She came up looking more youthful and revived and I probably looked like some sort of decrepit keeper of the crypt. That's what "love" does to you. She left me to my lonesome in the kitchen and I had a right mind to find a knife or some antifreeze. I'm so unhappy with my existence.

I don't talk much. To the average person, (I began this experiment while looking at myself in a mirror, detaching myself from my mind) I look charming, intelligent, the kind of man who probably makes a substantial income to afford all his snazzy outfits and had a silver spoon childhood. For the most part, it's true. I did have a nice childhood. I accepted my half-siblings without question in open arms. My paycheck is to be envied by even people in professional fields, not to mention the other nice paycheck I get from being a literature teacher at the Hearthome high school. I'm a more than adequate trainer. I have one, maybe two good friends. I like to think I'm attractive—on good days I feel I'm more than that, blessed with feminine features with a hint of sophisticated masculinity. Oh yes, Lucian, you have a beautiful life.

But there's something lacking. You see, beyond this seemingly perfect life, almost Stepford really, there's an underlying preface of emptiness. When I left childhood behind to become an adolescent, something changed. I have been in a perpetual state of unhappiness ever since then. I wake up some mornings and start thinking about my life and how I really serve no purpose. Who am I but one more man on this earth that can do what any other can? I find that whenever I am around others, they are sucked into a state of melancholy and I thrive off of it, because misery loves company. I'm Misery. I am the embodiment of negativity, a vessel for agony and all of his friends. I look at myself in the mirror now and I say to that despicable person looking back, "I hate you. You are the biggest disappointment on this side of the universe. Why are you still here, Lucian? You serve no point, there is no rhyme or reason to your existence. What are you to this world but a man that can't even accept who he is? You're too afraid to come right out and say it; you're just waiting for her to end it with you so you can go about life with one less thing to worry about. But that's not how it works, honey. You see, women like her? They _love _men like you. . manipulated. What, you're too afraid to end it yourself? Too afraid of breaking a long friendship, afraid of all the secrets coming out, afraid of explaining yourself, afraid of the dirty looks people will give you, afraid of losing your job? Afraid of admitting to yourself that Aaron was right all along and now it's too late to apologize?"

I clench my fists and my blood boils at this mocking, juvenile voice in my head. The hideous abomination in the mirror is standing tall, arms akimbo and smirk stretched his ears. "Don't bring him into this," I said aloud, gritting my teeth, trying—_trying—_not to let this bastard get to me. "This isn't about him. It's about you. It's about how I want you out of my life."

He laughed at me—God, that condescending laughter! I hate that laughter! "You think you intimidate me? I know you better than anyone, Lucian! Look at that icy facade you're trying to fool yourself with! Do you honestly believe that anyone is going to take you seriously? No one does! That's why she laughs at you, Lucian. That's why every time you kiss her she smiles afterwards. That's why it's so cold and meaningless when you screw her. She laughs after that, too. You honestly thought you meant something to someone? No, wait, you were right on that one! But guess what? I bet that person who truly did care is with Cynthia now, laughing at their common ground—you!"

He chuckled at me as I felt my willpower growing weaker—I know he saw it—but I kept on my hateful glare. He cocked his head to the side, pushing up his glasses and snickering softly. "Aw, don't feel so bad, Lucian. You know what you have to do to stop it—stop all the hatred and unhappiness forever. In this day and age, you can do it with virtually anything. Go on. Do it. Nobody's watching. We don't judge in here, Lucian darling. It's what you've always wanted. Stop pretending that tomorrow you'll have something worth waking up to. This life is too good for you. This life needs you out of it. You're holding everyone down, Lucian. Let it go. Let everything go."

I can hear the tension, I'm about to snap. His cockiness is only fueling my anger more and more. I'm doing everything in my power to stop my fist from hitting that mirror and ridding myself of him if only for a little while. The whistling in my ear is growing higher in pitch and I can hear my own heartbeat resonating in my ears and his laugh is getting louder and louder and louder—

I take in a deep breath, releasing my fists and closing my eyes.

"Not today, Lucian. Not today."

Opening my eyes again I no longer see what I've become. Instead the man I am trying to be stared back and although it hardly made me feel any better, at least I sustained my rage from getting out of hand. Not today. I'm not going to let myself win. I'm not going to let Cynthia win.

_Knock, knock. _"Ian, honey, are you ready yet? You've been in there an awful long time."

Ah yes, I remember I am talking to myself in the bathroom trying to fight suicide. My self-termination can wait, Cynthia cannot.

"Sorry, darling, I was freshening up. I'm coming out." If only that much were true. Not wanting dearest to wait any longer, I opened the door and stepped out, internally sighing. Well, I was dressed for the part: in a black suit and white carnation on my breast pocket, ready to be lifted by six men and lowered six feet into the ground. Cynthia was good at playing along with me: her low-cut skin-tight glamorous black mourning dress said, "Look at me, world! My boyfriend is deceased, so I'm free for the taking!" What a good sport.

"You look so handsome, Ian! It's been a while since I've seen you so formal." As much as I am no longer drawn to her, my gaze sort of shifted to her prominent cleavage; well gee, nothing says "I'm happily taken" like a thin line covering half a nipple. Usually I argue with her about her inappropriate clothing, but personally, I don't care anymore. If a man were to come by and take her away with such an invitation, then my problems would evaporate.

"I haven't worn this suit in about a year. Surprised it still fits. I look like my father in this suit." And he committed suicide when he was forty. I suppose that's also pretty fitting. I'll continue the family legacy.

"You look fabulous. Now come on, I don't want to be out too late!" She grabbed my arm and pulled my away from my train of thought.

One of my favorite places is located within the heart of Canalave City. It is a small café with a mini bookstore in it, mostly appealing to fellow literates and creative hipsters. It's adjacent to my favorite library in the region, and their chai tea is divine. I took Cynthia there for one of our first dates about five years ago. I took her there only once because she didn't really care for the contemporary ambiance. I took Aaron out here about a month ago and we had a great time, laughing, even discussing books we both enjoy. I didn't know he was such an avid reader. It was splendid and I've been dying to go back ever since, which my little arm-clinger has taken me to this evening. Of course I'm pleasantly surprised to see her willingly bring me in here, but all the while I know I won't have the time of my life because she isn't Aaron. All I can do is pretend.

"How's your tea, sweetheart?" She asked, picking at her Tiramisu. For some odd reason the tea didn't taste as good as it usually does.

"It's a little bland. I'm disappointed. Normally the tea is perfect here…" Then again, most things I love just won't feel the same without Aaron. I guess I just have to get used to a lonesome life again. Maybe I can get used to Cynthia again too, telling myself I love her until I wind up believing it again.

"You're so out of it today, honey. Is something wrong?" Her expression conveyed concern but I still wasn't buying it. I _know _she knows what's wrong with me. She just wants me to say it and admit the defeat I've already accepted.

"…Are you waiting for me to finally say it, or can I just imply it and you'll take the hint?" I didn't want to look at her, or even talk to her right now. I'm not in the mood for her to rub in the fact that I ruined my friendship and managed to break my own heart.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about, Ian…I don't know what's wrong."

I gave her a dry chuckle, staring at my cup of tea. "Of course you know what's wrong. What else could it possibly be? You know I don't talk to anyone else."

"…I see."

"So you know what, I'm going to play along and let you win this one, Cynthia, but not before I get some information out of you, first." I shot my head up at her and spoke as calmly as possible. "What do you have against him? What did he ever do to you? Or is it really my fault?"

She looked like I murdered her family. Clearly offended, she stammered and tried to retaliate. "I do not have anything against him! I don't know where you got—"

"That is a crock of shit and you know it." I interrupted. I'm not in the mood for her lies, either. "Tell me now. Why do you hate Aaron?"

She stayed silent for a while, her hurt appearance changing to annoyance. "Okay, so I got a little jealous. You've been talking to him more than you've been talking to me and that's not fair. You hardly want to be around me anymore and I feel like I'm just this extra baggage you don't need. I was happy for you at first, finally making a friend who understands you, but then you became so attached to him you started ignoring me. You never once thought of me. Don't you think that's a fair enough argument?"

"Of course it is, but in all honesty, five years being dragged around with my girlfriend not being able to just have time to myself made me very unhappy. He's my friend and I want to have a life that doesn't include you hanging over me every second of every day. I'll get around to spending time with you, too, but you have to remember that I'm just one person. I don't always adjust to the wants and needs of just one person. I hardly adjust for my _own _wants and needs."

"I just thought that after nine years of knowing each other you'd be more open with me. How is it that you just met him and he's the closest thing you have?"

"Not all the time does the closest person in your life have to be your significant other. I've always wanted a very personal friend that I can communicate with on such levels. It doesn't mean that we aren't close, we're just close on a different level. It really doesn't mean anything, my being talkative to Aaron. It just means we're friends. However, since you have such a disdain for our relationship, I think you'll be happy to know we won't be talking for a while now."

"Well, that's—" She stopped mid-sentence and gave me an astonished look. "You…you won't be talking to him?"

"No. No I won't, Cynthia, because I finally ended our friendship by doing something very stupid. It was so stupid, I wound up hurting Aaron's feelings so badly, he blew up at me and left. I got mad, too. I got mad at myself. But I don't like describing the details of my failure to others, so I won't talk about it further than that. I just want you to know that it's over and now all of my time can be monopolized by you again. So now that we have settled our differences, may we please end this runaround game of misery before I wind up jumping off of the Veilstone Department store roof?" I sipped my tea.

* * *

**There are No Clichés in the Real World**

—**Cynthia**

I did not see this coming. I wanted Lucian to tell me about his problems, but I never wanted it to be this way. I would've thought that them ending their friendship would've been beneficiary on my part, but why do I just feel like I wished for something more evil than I intended? I never wanted Lucian to be unhappy. I never wanted him to be so miserable. I feel like I'm the cause of this unhappiness, that I've been keeping Lucian from being his own person.

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't know you and he got into a fight. Why can't you two just make up?" Oh, I feel so terrible. Now I wish that Aaron forgives him and they just keep doing what they've been doing all this time.

He smiled and scoffed. "Are you really that thick? You don't just go up to someone and say sorry in the hopes that things get better. I regret what I did and it's a regret that's going to stay with me forever. I just have to learn to deal with it."

I wanted to try to say something encouraging, but I couldn't think of anything. I'm no help whatsoever. This isn't just some cliché world in which I say something hopeful and Lucian will get up, empowered, running back to Aaron and life is good. No, I helped ruin a perfectly good friendship all because I became jealous.

"…We could go home now if you want, Ian…"

* * *

**My Hope Lies in the Wrong Areas**

—**Lucian **

I think I made my point with Cynthia today. I think I finally got a small portion of everything I've been holding back out. She's taking it a lot better than I thought she would.

"No, no, it's fine…I want some more tea, actually…" I heard my voice crack. And there it is, another wave of depression coming over me. Cynthia got up from her seat and moved it next to me, pulling me into a hug. My head rested on her shoulder and I allowed tears to fall from my eyes.

"It's okay, Ian…we don't have to talk about it at all. You talk to me when you're ready."

Her voice was calming. All that paranoia I've had about her being a bad person was just me contorting the rational unhappiness she had and amplifying it to mean something against me. It's no one's fault but my own is why I have no friends and a crumbling relationship. I can't accept who I am because I'm too busy hating myself and blaming the world. I held Cynthia in my arms and cried silently.

I remember why I said yes to her five years ago now as I feel her warmth around me. She was the first shoulder I ever cried on. I believe she's always known I've been depressed, plagued by misery. She's been very good to me. We used to talk but never as intimately as I did with Aaron. But I enjoyed mine and Cynthia's tiny chats about nothing because she was someone I could just be worry free around. I could be the cynic with Aaron but the calm, collected gentleman with Cynthia. I do love her. I love her, but not romantically. _She's _the one I can't love romantically. I treasure her as one of the best people I know but I feel nothing when we kiss, when we make love, when I tell her I love her. It's her. I was just so lonely all those years ago, I needed a friend who would stay by me through thick and thin. Now I know why I felt so bad telling Aaron it meant nothing. I know now that Cynthia probably knows I don't feel the same for her, but how do I end it? I just can't tell her—especially now, since that leaves me with no one—that I want to end it and go back to Aaron. There are too many what-ifs.

I'm saving a lot of trouble by never being truly happy.

"Are you okay, Lucian?" She cooed, nuzzling her head against mine. I looked up at her and smiled a little.

"I'll be okay. I just have a lot of thinking to do. I also have some therapy sessions I need to plan." We both chuckled a little and I felt a lot better. I need to stop worrying about Aaron and start getting my shit together, as he would say.

"Let's get you some more tea and we can talk about it at home." She said, taking my hand and helping me up.

"I like the sound of that." I squeezed her hand and followed by. Not today, Lucian. Not today.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Oh my God, this seriously took forever to write. I took the entire week to write this chapter and boy, was it worth it. This chapter was a lot of my personal venting. It's been a very hard past couple of months and just when I thought I had nowhere else to turn to, I find my loyal fans. Thank you all so much, even if a good chunk of you don't review. Writing this keeps me alive even if no one reads this. The next chapter is going into the Christmas break, where things may or may not get better for Lucian. Wouldn't it suck if I ended it right here? I'm kidding; after everything this poor man has been through, he deserves a decent ending. Until next time.**

—**CC **


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: There are explicit scenes in this chapter. If sexual themes offend you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way, please skip all of the first perspective or the chapter in its entirety. Thank you.**

* * *

**I Know a Girl**

—**Lucian**

When Cynthia and I returned home from our little outing, she led me into her room and told me to wait on her bed as she quickly ran downstairs into the kitchen to bring me a tub of birthday cake flavored ice cream with a spoon. Now I may have said before that Cynthia is such a horrible person, self-hatred and anger tend to mask the truth in frustration. In all honesty, this is the face of a true friend.

We sat in our pajamas all night and engorged ourselves in feelings. I told her everything, all the things I've wanted to tell her since I met her. She cried a few times too, but not because she was bitter. Much to my amazement, she took everything better than I thought she would. It was as if she had already known everything I was going to say.

"Cynthia," I said wearily, scooping a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, "I'm just so confused. I mean, you know I care about you, but I feel like such a criminal for falling in love with someone I just met. A male, no less! Do you have any idea how wrong that is? I'm surprised you aren't more disgusted…"

Sitting adjacent to me was Cynthia, using her left arm to pull me into a side hug. "Oh sweetie, it's not wrong. It's very natural for you to be feeling this way. It's your life, you can love whomever you want. What's so bad about a man who loves another man?"

"It…it just isn't right. I've always been taught, 'find the _woman _of your dreams, marry a nice _girl _and have _her _be the _mother of your children_.' There's a standard, Cynthia. My parents wanted me to keep the family name strong. How can I do that if the woman of my dreams is a seventeen year old boy? That's another aspect in which makes this scenario wrong. I'm twenty three, Cynthia. He's not even an adult yet and I find myself dreaming about being with him. There are too many things that are _wrong _about this."

Cynthia made a disapproving noise and pushed me away. "It's _your _life, Lucian. If you're into men, then there's nothing you can do about it. There is no cure, there is no doctor you can see for being…well, gay."

I felt sick. "I am _not _g—"

"The second you say it only proves that you are. There's no need to be defensive about it. Okay, I can see why you'd be a little freaked out about the age difference, but you're also pretty young. He'll be hitting adulthood soon, anyways. I don't see why anything else is such a big deal."

I wanted to tell her that it was a big deal, that I have passed a threshold in which there is no return. I know I'm attracted to him romantically. I know that my body temperature rises whenever I think of him. I know those thoughts border on inappropriate from time to time. I know I enjoy it. I just don't want to hear it. I don't want to accept it. I honestly believe that overdosing or hanging myself would be better than having to admit that I am in love with a boy. But instead of saying this, I simply bit down hard on my spoon.

"…You want to say something." She stated, staring me dead in the eyes. "Say it. You've already dropped the biggest bombshell you could on the both of us, so whatever you have to say will not faze me one bit."

I slowly pulled the spoon from my lips, averting her stare and thinking hard about my response. Should I tell her? I trust her enough to not completely explode if I do. I might as well since I literally have nothing else to lose.

"…I kissed him this morning."

She coughed. "You what?"

"I kissed him. He was consoling me because I had a bad morning, so I just kind of grabbed him and gave him a kiss."

"You…you mean like a little peck on the lips or…?"

"I pulled him down so to where he was on top of me and kissed him in heated passion. It was a very long kiss. I gave him lots of tongue, too."

Cynthia starting choking on probably her own saliva and I had to pat her back a few times. "You mean to tell me that you had a hot make-out with your crush and you _still _refuse to believe you're gay?! What were you thinking?! Did he respond? What happened?"

"I was thinking that it was the best feeling in the world and I was just so hot for him, I wanted to rip off all of his clothes with my teeth and fuck him raw right there on the table. Pardon my language."

"Lucian!"

"Oh, is that not enough for you? Well here, let me give you one better: while we were kissing passionately practically on the kitchen table, we started fondling each other. From fondling came something a little bit more. Aaron gave me a hand-job. He gave me a hot, fast hand-job like a pro in the kitchen while everyone was asleep. It felt so _good. _I was in such a state of ecstasy I 'accidentally' released my genetic material all over his hand. It was deliciously kinky and he even offered to continue on top of the table. I was going to tell him yes. I was going to ravage his body and lick maple syrup and butter off of his young, hot chest to overcompensate for the breakfast I didn't have."

"LUCIAN!"

"You're the one who wanted to truth! His hands were places that only in my dreams they would be exploring. You do not understand the magnitude of sexual tension we have had for the past three months, sweetheart. Do you know how long I have been _waiting _for that boy to press his body against mine in the heat of passion? Do you know how _badly _I have wanted him, how hot it gets under my clothes when he _calls me by my_ _name? _Did you know that Aaron felt the same way for me felt and was just pissing himself in excitement when I _finally had the guts to kiss him?! _I love that boy more than I could possibly say, and the _one moment _I have to tell him how I feel, I ruin it all by once more denying my feelings and told him to his face that the kiss meant nothing, that the sexual encounter was just casual. I hurt his feelings and he told me off, screaming that I was a pathetic waste of space who can't do anything right! I blew it, Cynthia. There is no going back to him and telling him that I really love him. I'm a failure and the only person who truly mattered is now gone from my life."

I was hugging my knees to my chest, whining like a child. I'm so pathetic it hurts.

"Lucian…" She scooted next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. Let it all out, honey. You are not a failure, you are not a pathetic waste of space. You've just been sucked into a world of emotion in which you don't know how to deal with. Calm down."

To the best of my ability, I calmed. She gave me the most reassuring smile.

"I—I want to tell him how I feel. I just don't know how I should bring it up. What if he's still mad at me, Cyn? How do I know if he still likes me? I don't want to mess this up any more than what it already is."

"You won't mess anything up, Ian. Trust me. I say give him the rest of tonight and sometime tomorrow when you do see him, and make sure you're alone, pull him aside and no matter what, keep him there until you're done talking. After that, then it's up to him whether he wants to continue seeing you. I know in my heart that he will forgive you, because that's what true love is. It's forgiveness. I forgive you for every little mistake you make. You forgive me more than you should. If he really loves you, which I know you know he does, he would accept your apology wholeheartedly, and if not, then he isn't worth your time, you can find better men if you and Aaron don't work out."

She stopped for a second and snapped her fingers as to indicate a final thought. "And I know that he's a hotheaded little boy. He'll snap at any little thing. If he tries to pick a fight with you, you fight back and keep at it until you get him to shut up and listen."

I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug. It felt good holding Cynthia, how warm and comforting she is.

"Thank you for the advice, but what about you, Cyn? If Aaron and I don't work out, where does that leave you?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, honey." She chuckled into my ear. "I'll be fine. I'll find love, too someday. For now, I just want you to go after the boy you truly care for."

"Cynthia, you are literally the best person I know. I love you so much." Our arms tightened their holds and for the first time in a long time, all was right in the world. Who would've thought that ending my relationship would lead to a better one?

"I love you too, Ian. Now get some rest, it's been a long day for all of us. Tomorrow you will talk to Aaron and things should get settled."

This would be the last night I would spend with Cynthia. I left to my room and slept very peacefully, not at all feeling alone.

* * *

**Being an Asshole has Left Me in Despair**

—**Aaron **

I don't want to miss him. No, no, no, I don't want to miss him. This is the first morning I've gone without him. I always make him breakfast and we talk about random shit, but we can't. We probably never will. God, I miss him so much. I feel like such a dickwad for yelling at him. I hurt his feelings and he probably hates me now. I didn't mean a word of it, I swear! I love him! I _still _love him even after he told me I meant nothing to him.

I wish I never kissed back. I wish it didn't lead to something more. I'm such a dumbass. I'm sorry, Lucian. I never meant for any of this to happen. But there's no going back now; I just have to suck it up, pretend like it never happened, and move on with my life by avoiding him until the day I die.

It's six in the morning. It'll be an entire hour before Lucian comes down for breakfast. I just want to eat alone and then I'll be out of everybody's way the rest of today. Waffles don't taste as good without him here. But I can't think like that anymore. It's time to grow up, Aaron; you didn't have a chance with him to begin with. Move on, there are other guys.

Yeah, but none of them are Lucian.

I hate him for being so perfect.

I hate these waffles. These waffles taste like resentment.

I hate myself for waking up an hour early just so I can avoid some douchebag that I'm still in love with.

I hate the fact that somewhere out there, there's a happy couple, kissing, hugging, being all fucking disgusting and cute when I'm just here lusting over someone who hates me.

I hate happiness. I want to take all of the world's happiness and set it on fire then hand out false hope to everyone just so that I won't be the only person on this earth who is that miserable.

You know, I don't even care how insensitive that sounds. Misery loves company, you know. Everyone who has done absolutely nothing to deserve tragedy should all suffer volumes of agony in its purest form just so that I won't be alone. Let every living being on this planet with hearts full of sunshine and rainbows find out that they have some kind of horrible, incurable disease and they have infected everyone around them, because that would amuse me for a few seconds and distract me from the heartbreak I am going through.

I've never been in love with anyone. I think I had a crush on this one guy in middle school, but that came and passed quickly. I've always been aware that I'm attracted to guys, which in itself shouldn't be a surprise. Well, for the most part, if you save for those girls in the ninth grade who had huge crushes on me but didn't get the hint. I figured since a girl never made me feel that way, I didn't like them. I kinda never thought about it after that, but then I was asked one day by a friend, "Since I've never seen you date anyone, what do you want in a girl that isn't apparent in the girls at school?" Of course, he wasn't that articulate (probably didn't even know what 'articulate' meant) but I took a second to think. Every time I tried thinking of a girl, she wound up with broad shoulders, a flat chest, defined face, and huge bulge in her pants. So obviously I wasn't thinking of my dream girl, but I did manage to create my expectations for my dream guy.

And my expectations are just too unreasonable. My type of guy: older, taller, well-dressed, refined, smart and crazily sexy, yet sophisticated as Hell. You know who's older than me, taller than me, well-dressed, refined, smart, and crazily sexy yet sophisticated as Hell? The asshole I fell in love with. People like Lucian aren't supposed to exist: the people who are too perfect. There's no such thing as meeting the perfect description of your dream lover and not expecting a catch. Taken, heterosexual, homosexual, they have a lazy eye, they have a club foot, they're whores, they're just not into you.

Lucian's not into me.

"Good morning."

Let it be known at that moment, I had entered the tenth level of Hell, the special level where I go mad and hear nothing but Lucian's voice in my head forever. I just kept my head down and shoved a whole, folded waffle into my mouth, trying to pretend like the voice wasn't there.

"…Okay, then…" I hear in a quieter, disappointed tone. Just to make sure I wasn't dead and really in Lucian Hell, I looked up and saw my crush standing with his back towards me, pajama-clad and making morning tea. I guess I was so caught up in moping over him, I didn't notice when he got there.

What do I say to him? It's obviously too late to say "good morning" back, I mean, you just don't do that. So I went with the next best thing: I ignored him more in the hopes that he would forget I existed. It actually felt like it was working, because he didn't say a word to me—he didn't even turn back—during the time it took to make his tea and pour it into a red mug.

"So why're you so quiet?" He said (aw shit, I was so close to being forever invisible), sipping his tea with his back still toward me. I had three options: one, keep ignoring him because it's a pretty plausible idea; two, be a big boy and answer him kindly because he's still a human, and pretend like the conversation will carry on normally; or three…

"What, just because you never shut up means I have to keep talking, too? I happen to like silence sometimes. Get off my back."

Shit. Option number three is preprogrammed in my stupid head.

I felt bad the second I said it. This could've been my chance to mend what had happened, but as always, I decided that being an asshole to him would work just as nicely. I heard a soft "hmph" come from Lucian.

"Sorry my voice offends you so much. I didn't think you would be so touchy about a simple question. Then again, you're always mad about some trivial little thing." His voice was bitter and harsh, which made me feel even worse, but there's just something about me that refuses to let up the asshole act.

"Well maybe if stupid people like you weren't constantly plaguing my life with bullshit, I'd have a reason to be fuckin' Mary Sunshine every day." I need to stop this now before it gets out of hand. I'm already being impossible and I'm sure Lucian can fight back just as badly. Why is it so hard to let go—

"Perhaps if you got over yourself and saw that you're not the high and mighty little brat you think you are, then perhaps you'd see that not everyone is stupid, we just think differently."

His comebacks are really starting to get to me, not because I see it as him challenging my person, but because I don't want to fight with him. He's a lot smarter than I am and he could beat me at this easily. I know I'm going to wind up enraged at this and I should just get up and walk away.

"Your way of thinking is stupid. You're a stupid jackass who thinks on impulse and doesn't think about consequences. You ruin everything and all because you're a curious fuckhead." I got up from my seat and pushed my plate of waffles away. My appetite is ruined.

"Oh, so you're mad about _that?_"

My blood boiled over. Okay, _now _I'm pissed.

I stormed right up to his cocky ass and grabbed his arm, turning him around. I raised my right arm and smacked the mug from his hands, sending it crashing down to the floor. Lucian looked totally unfazed and it messed with me so badly.

"What the _fuck _do you mean, 'oh you're mad about _that'_?! Listen, you conceited, corn-fed, yellow-toothed prick, you think it's funny messing with someone's feelings? You're the one who made out with me! You have the balls to pretend like it's nothing?!" I screamed at him.

"_You're _the one who let it escalade, since it was _your _hand down _my _pants. So perhaps, just perhaps, I'm not the one entirely at fault here. And, I never said that it was nothing. I'm not trying to mess with anyone. My, my, you're blowing things way out of proportion, Aaron. Maybe we should talk." He said it so _calmly _oh my God. He gave me a shit-eating grin that almost made me pop a blood vessel. I want to kill this guy.

"Like Hell I wanna talk to you. You're an asshole. You think you're _so _much smarter than me." I took in a deep breath. "Just leave me alone."

"You were the one to come up to me. Before that, you were the one to respond to my question when you could've just as easily ignored me." Damn it, I regret not choosing option one. "…Ah, speechless for once? No snappy retaliation?"

"I'm serious, if you pick on me one more time…"

"Oh, so I'm picking on you? Ah, I guess I'm just supposed to sit down and cry every time you call me a bad name. I'm supposed to quiver in fear because you're a twelve year old that gets all giddy whenever he drops the 'f' bomb. You know, swearing is an uneducated, ugly way of getting your point across. It doesn't make you sound like an adult, it makes you sound neanderthalic and rude."

"You know what, fu…Forget you. I don't want to deal with this right now." I _hate _it when he does that. He always wins and I'm here left looking like a dumbass. I shut up and looked down, not a thing to say more.

"Hurts, doesn't it, being called names and having flaws pointed out to you all the time?" He pushed up his glasses and frowned. Boy, Lucian sure does know how to make someone feel small. "Well? Have you decided to ignore me like the child you are, or are you going to talk to me like your equal?"

"I don't want to talk to you."

"But I do."

"What makes you think you're going to get me to say anything to you?!"

"Because I know that you're in love with me and this is the only chance you're getting to make amends before it's too late." His tone changed from cold and conceited to calm and soft.

I felt my eyes widen and heart drop. "…I…I don't…"

"Aaron," he said as if I were testing his patience. I stopped and clenched my fists. "Now that I've got your attention, I feel as if we need to talk about what happened."

* * *

**Speak Persuasively and Carry a Steady Conversation**

—**Lucian**

He just stared at me in some vacant sort of disbelief. I probably should've waited to say that, but I'm tired of beating around the bush. I've been circling around this subject with him for months and it's about time we get to the point.

"Aaron," I said, "If you're wondering how I know, well, you made it pretty obvious with all the things you said, and the second you kissed back was pretty much a solid confirmation of the matter." He backed away from me and his eyes shifted to the door leading out the kitchen. "Don't run away from this."

"I'm not." He said sternly, backing all the way to the table. He sat atop of it, kicking his feet nonchalantly. "Okay, you know that I have feelings for you, so what? Want me to come right out and say it? Fine. I was in love with you, but then you made it pretty clear that you don't feel the same way. There, we talked about it, are you satisfied?"

I frowned and rolled my eyes. "That's not—ugh. No." I began to rub my temples. "Aaron, that's not what I was going to say. I know you had feelings for me, but what I told you yesterday was just me denying that I've been just as longing."

"So, is this now becoming some cliché where you realize your love for me and then everything ends happily?" He sneered. Well, I tried.

"That was half the expectation. The other half was expecting you to not feel the same anymore." I sighed. "I didn't want to think that I was falling for a boy. I had Cynthia, but I never really felt the same rush of joy when I'm around you. You're hilarious and intelligent and we understand each other, and all along you've been my missing puzzle piece. But then I got curious and kissed you. I kissed you to see if you really did like me or if I was just assuming that because you were so friendly with me…"

Oh, what's the point? It's obvious this little cynic doesn't want to hear it. At least I told him I liked him, too.

"…Well, I guess that's that." I have no idea what to say next. How does this work, I wonder. Do we just ignore each other and go about our lives like nothing ever happened? This is so conflicting. I looked to my side and saw the broken mug. "…I should get that."

As I got down on my knees and started to slowly pick up the fragments of mug, I couldn't help but to feel the weight of the world off my shoulders, yet have an empty pit in my stomach.

* * *

**I'm a Sucker for Happy Endings**

—**Aaron**

This was the best day of my life. Lucian just confessed to me. I literally want to get up from the table and kiss him all over, screaming to the world that I love him. But I think I'll hold off on that because his turmoil is really cute—now he gets to feel what I've been wondering for months.

I watched him grab the broken mug and cup the pieces in his hand, bringing himself up and wrapping it in a paper towel. Lucian looked so sad, as if someone ran over his Eevee—twice. He's so sweet and I am such a jerk for not letting him know that everything's going to be okay. I'll bet he tried convincing himself forever to just confess to me and I don't think I could've asked for anything better. Yeah, it bothered me that I didn't even get to confess to him formally, but in a way he deserves this treatment.

I do it out of love.

But now I wonder, what do you say to someone who just poured their heart out to you, that they've been in love with you for almost as long as you've with them? I have the option of taking the romantic approach, getting up and taking him in my arms, whisking him away off into the sunset. I also have the option of just stopping him and telling him that I love him, too, that we should just forget about our fight and finally start dating.

And then I could do this.

"That's nice." I said plainly, shrugging my shoulders and giving him an indifferent look. Lucian stopped wrapping up the mug and tensed, straightening his stance.

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'that's nice.'" He turned to me and I'll tell ya, if looks could kill.

"I…spend days contemplating my sexuality, ruined the relationship I had with a girlfriend of five years, was on the brink of jumping out of a window to avoid confessing, took months of your bullshit and for what? For you to respond to my heartfelt confession, which, by the way, I was killing myself over just trying to string the right words together, 'that's nice?!' Heh heh, you've got a _lot _of nerve, Aaron. You know, in retrospect, I don't even know what I saw in you." He huffed, marching to the table and hovering over me, trying to look intimidating.

I laughed. "Why are you so pissed? You look hilarious."

He scowled and made a low, tracheal noise. "You are so immature."

"You're the one arguing with a teenager."

"You could've just been a little bit more considerate, you know."

"Well, I did say it was nice."

I smiled widely at Lucian's frustration. "Now you know how I feel." He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're really cute when you're angry."

"You're a little shit." He hissed.

"Ah-ah, language, Mister." I wagged my finger at him, tapping him on the nose once. "Your mouth is too pretty to be tainted by bad words."

Lucian quirked a brow and swiped my hand away. "Oh, so now you think you can make things better by flirting?"

"You don't mind it. I know you don't." I reached up and ran my hand through his pretty lavender hair. "You wouldn't stay mad at me, would you? I mean look at me. I'm fucking cute."

Lucian glared at me, but then he just sighed and closed his eyes. "So you were just playing around, I see."

"Of course I was. Your confession made me feel like I could explode from happiness. I'm still totally in love with you, Lucian. I just wanted to fuck around because it's what I do." I gave him a reassuring smile and pulled him down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "And trust me, now that I know that you're into me and you're single, I'm going to take advantage of you in any way possible."

Lucian chuckled and placed his hands on the edges of the table. "Not before I do you."

"Whoa-ho-ho, getting a little feisty there, Lucian. " We both laughed, but then an ingenious thought came to my perverse teenage mind. "…Hey Lucian…"

He hummed and smirked slightly. "Yes, Aaron?"

"Not to sound like a bitch, but I recall yesterday you interrupted our fun with your stupid words. I thought, had you not said anything, we were going to…" I trailed off, trying not to sound like I was eager about anything. After giving me an estranged look, Lucian raised his eyebrows and had an 'oh-I-know-where-this-is-going' expression on his face.

"Continue where we left off?" He looked around, then back at me. "And as I recall, you offered to finish right here on the table."

"Mmhm…Not that I'm saying anything, but I was just wondering if maybe…since a good ninety-nine percent of the duration of our friendship has been nothing but denying our sexual tension for one another, I figure we'd stop circling around the subject and kind of—"

"Get it over with because it is, in essence, what we've _really _been wanting for the better part of four months?" He completed my sentence and stared into my eyes intensely.

"..Yeah…" I stared back and for a moment, things got real quiet. You could cut this tension with a knife. Now that it's out in the open—

"Oh God, get the fuck over here—" I grabbed Lucian's satin button-up shirt and pulled him against me, kissing him like I've never kissed anyone before. Almost instantly he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down on the table, pressing his lips back feverishly against mine. The power of blind lust took over and from there things finally escalated to where we've wanted.

I curled my fingers into his shirt and kept kissing him messily. Lucian bit my lower lip (and it hurt like a bitch) and ran his tongue against my teeth. Without hesitation I opened my mouth and took his tongue in, swirling mine against it wildly and without any real direction. Although Lucian tried to stably circle his tongue around mine, he eventually gave up and just acted on his own accord.

"Oh God, this is what I've been waiting for…" He purred, leaving my lips (much to my dismay) and trailing kisses against my jawline, down my neck, and stopped at my collarbone, where he nibbled gently. It sort of tickled and I made a little noise indicating approval.

"You have the most delicious set of collarbones I've ever seen on a person." At that moment I thanked my friend for sending me this vest which showed off what Lucian wanted to see. He ran his tongue along the crevices of my clavicle, giving me goose bumps. Soon these horrible, strained noises came from the back of my throat. Lucian momentarily stopped his licking and grabbed the zipper to my vest with his teeth, his bespectacled eyes looking into mine as he unzipped.

"Lucian…" I whined, completely aroused by his actions. Just the thought of him ravaging every inch of my body was enough to drive me insane, but actually feeling him like this is just… "Lucian!"

Caught completely off-guard (thanks to being lost in thought again), I found Lucian and his skillful tongue back at my collar, his hands slipping my vest off. I helped and slid out of it swiftly. My masterful superior ran his smooth, nimble fingers against the curve of my waist and brought them up to my chest, where a single pale pointer drew little circles around my nipple. His free hand traveled along my lower abdomen, tracing his hands around and finding sensitive spots that I didn't even know existed. I tightened my grip on his night shirt, and although the lush feeling of the material felt nice on my bare skin, I wanted it off.

"You're so eager." Lucian chuckled, taking the hint and stopping his touches. He stood and unbuttoned his shirt too slowly for his own good. He saw my blatant frustration and smirked—fuck, that smirk makes me crazy—peeling his shirt off and tossing it on a chair. Exquisite pale skin doesn't even begin to describe that man's appeal.

"You can stop the show, geez. What ever happened to 'just fuck me already?'" I managed to squeak, earning an electrifying set of fingers rubbing against my inner thigh. I shivered and exhaled.

"Mm, what's the fun in that? Surely I want you, but there's just so much I want to do first. You've a lot to learn, my darling." Suddenly his voice dropped to this whisper and _fuck_ what a difference it made. As if I weren't already seduced by him, he decides to talk like that.

Not hearing any further objections from me, Lucian lowered himself to my chest, giving me a few kisses before venturing over my skin and flicking his tongue over my right nipple. "Nn…" I got chills from his teasing. Sadly he hardly gave the bud the attention it deserved, but Lucian knew what he was doing. He nibbled a little sporadic trail down to my naval (biting seems to be his thing, which is a great turn-on for some reason), where he dipped his tongue into my bellybutton maybe twice. A light giggle escaped me because it tickled a lot, but I really didn't want to ruin the mood. My well-educated companion abandoned my body to push his glasses up, eyeing my pants.

"Don't worry, my antsy little love, you'll be getting a special treat for all your waiting." Lucian said in that hot whisper. He folded his fingers over the zipper and button to my pants, undoing everything, purposely rubbing his thumbs against my growing hard-on. I whimpered and bit down on my lip to stay quiet, which wouldn't last long with Lucian pulling my pants off. Down to the floor they went, and he stared at me for a bit, the look of pure, unwavering lust riddled in his toothy grin. He grabbed the waistband of my boxers and tugged them down, my cock springing out startlingly. "My, my, you're a lovely little slender thing." He licked his lips and stroked my erection with the cold tips of his fingers. "I'm salivating just looking at it."

I felt my face heat up and I made a few whiny noises. "Lucian, stop it…" When had I become so submissive?

"Mm, I see, you want direct entertainment." He dipped his head lower, pressing his lips against my left thigh. He yet again found a sweet spot in a place I never would've thought.

"Nnff Lucian, no…" I tried to stop his teasing, but every time a new little moan of delight that betrayed my needs came out of my mouth, Lucian kept kissing my thighs, licking and biting softly. I scratched against the table, desperate for him to just do what he's going to. "Please, Lucian, _please!"_

Lucian hummed in satisfaction and brought his head back up. "You're so needy. I like this part of you." That stupid cocky asshole. But I could no longer complain, since he was giving me all I wanted, starting with a kiss to the tip of my cock. He smiled and dragged his talented tongue against its length, making me squirm. A few moans left me, and my tense nature seemed to fade away under the ministrations of Lucian's lips, which were now enveloped over the head. I clenched my eyes shut and bit down on my lip hard.

"Mmmnnn Lucian...Oh Lucian…" That name will forever be rolling off the tip of my tongue after today. My remarkable companion suckled on me; I felt more of the inside of his hot mouth with every few sucks, I felt his head bob dutifully on my length. "Ohh _fuck…_" I moan under my breath, the urge to roll my hips against him getting too great for me to control. I bucked my hips once, receiving an inviting "mmm" from Lucian. I pumped again a few more times, trying to get him to suck me as fast and hard as he can. Suddenly I felt his hands on my hips, holding me down, stabilizing my thrusts as he bobbed his head up and down faster, satisfying my need. He moaned against my cock and those few seconds of hard sucking made me grab his hair and mimic his movements.

"Oh my—Lucian, Lucian, I'm—h-…O-oh f…!" I tried to tell him I was going to cum, but I couldn't think; the intensity of orgasm broke my train of thought and the sentence became a mumble, forming into a short, high-pitched yelp. My back arched and I released a few spurts into Lucian's mouth. I panted a little, and I felt him swallow before popping off. He gave me the most mischievous, sexy smile, as if he'd accomplished something so fucking great—

He did more than that.

"Your self-control is fun to play with. The results are pleasing, to say the least." Lucian said in a sultry purr, standing back up and scanning his half-lidded violet eyes over me.

"You're horrible, Lucian…" I looked up at him, dazed by the mind-blowing experience. "But I admit…playing with you is better than I imagined…"

Lucian kept his eyes on me as he hooked his fingers into his pants. "Consider it payback for yesterday. But now…" He began to pull down his pants and I watched him, my body freezing. I'm eagerly awaiting the reveal. Lucian brought his pants down just below his rear, his long, quivering cock standing readily. My eyes widened at the sight of him—I want—_need _him in me _now._

"Lucian, please, please, _please. _I need it _now!" _I begged, shakily parting my legs. He adjusted his glasses and used his other hand to grab my knee, pushing my leg further out.

He positioned himself in between my legs, grabbing onto his length and prodding my hole with the tip. A sharp shock shot up my spine and I stifled a moan. I took in a long breath and closed my eyes, mentally prepping myself for what's to come.

"Aaron…" I heard Lucian groan as he pushed himself inside of me, my eyes popping open. I scratched at the table even more and whimpered at the feeling of being ripped apart.

"N-nn! H..A-aah! Lucian!" I screamed, curling my toes and breathing in as fast as possible.

He pressed a finger to my lips and shushed me. Lucian entered more of his length inside and he felt _huge. _It hurt so much and my mouth was dry from all the panting and yelling, but I want this more than I want air. He's going to break me, I can feel it. Every sense I have intensified when Lucian was completely in, taking me, surprising me with his first thrust.

"A-ahn!"

Lucian's smile slowly left him and all that remained was a flurry of eyelashes, his lips parted a bit to where only the bottom of his two front teeth were showing. A thin layer of sweat started forming over him, me glistening with sweat by that point, and he gave me another shallow thrust. His hips rocked against mine at a slow, steady pace and everything felt so tight. I moaned his name over and over, the only thing in my head being how good Lucian is going to make me feel and how satisfied he is by being my first.

I grabbed his shoulders and clawed into his back, getting tired of his slow pumps. "Lucian…"

He leaned over and closed in against my ear. "Say it and you'll get it." He said in a harsh whisper that made me squeak.

"I want _more._"

Lucian moaned softly and picked up the pace, pressing against me further until out bodies melted against one another, molding as if they were made to do this. He was so close to me, close enough to where I could smell the intoxicating scent of his hair. Every sense that appealed to me in ways I could never imagine. The taste of his hot, salty skin I've bit into as he fucked me, the scent of his morning-showered body now masked with sweat and sex, the sight of him being enraptured by me, the look of desire burning in his violet eyes, the feeling of him thrusting in and out of me with such passion, the way he grabbed onto my leg and angled himself inside of me, making me scream his name. His fuck became harder, and I threw my head back and rolled my hips against his, meeting him move by move. Lucian's voice was enthralled, enthusiastic—he moaned in longing desperation my name, he cursed with his breath on occasion. I had ripples sent through all over my body, and eventually the two of us became so sweaty that every time I tried to dig my nails into him they just glided off.

Our cries were heated and were growing to new heights of ecstasy. Lucian grabbed my ass with one hand and curled his fingers, his nails clawing into my skin. I'm so close, I'm so _fucking close._ I looked up at my lover and whimpered amidst our cries, trying to tell him I was ready. His eyes met mine and the message was clear. Just as I was peaking, Lucian clung to my skin harder and pounded me faster, I arched again and screamed his name over and over, "Lucian! Oh, fuck, Lucian! I'm cumming! Aaah!"

I grabbed the back of his head and yelled his name once more as I came, shooting my white hot load all over his abdomen. I was so spent, but Lucian wasn't about to let up just because I was done. I kept my grip on him and let my moans flow from my dry, sore throat as he fucked me harder than before, looking into my eyes as he felt himself come to orgasm as well.

"A…Aaron!" He exhaled, pulling me into a deep kiss as he came inside of me. I squealed in pleasure and wrapped my legs around his waist, not letting go until he was finished. Our kiss lasted a good while, then I felt him pull out of me. We broke the kiss and our eyes locked onto each other.

"Lucian…" I whispered, spent and tired. "You…I…" I couldn't even think straight.

He gave me another kiss, this one soft and sweet, then mumbled against my lips. "I love you."

If that's what he said, then I must've said "I love you too" back. If not, then I thought it. Either way, it was true. Nothing quite says "be my boyfriend" than four months of sexual tension finally pushing us to our breaking point.

"…Are you two quite finished?"

And there goes our romantic air. Lucian and I pulled away and looked to where the voice came from. Standing in the doorway was Cynthia, looking annoyed and tired. Behind her were Flint, who was nodding in approval, and Bertha, who shook her head and began to walk away.

I died inside.

"…Well. This was an unexpected turn of events." Lucian said, reaching down to pull up his pants. I scrambled to get off the table, trying too hard to find my underwear which magically disappeared during this time alone.

Cynthia hit her face with her palm. "Aaron, please! I don't want to see your gizmo!" Flint snickered in the background. "You two, I'm happy that you've resolved your issue, but did it _have _to be on our table? We _eat _there! We were going to eat some lunch!" She scolded, turning on her heel and heading for the door. "Get dressed and go eat lunch by yourselves! You've ruined our appetites! Flint, get back here!"

And with that, the two were out. I managed to find my boxers _finally _and put on my clothes quickly. Lucian sighed and looked at me.

"Sorry about that." He smiled, buttoning his shirt back on. I slipped on my vest and laughed.

"Don't be. It was amazing. From now on, let's keep it away from the kitchen. Maybe move it to the library or the coffee room or the roof." I said, Lucian chuckling and pulling me in for a hug. Mmm, he was so warm and wonderful. And sweaty.

"Perhaps somewhere more private would suffice." I looked up and him and tiptoed, kissing him.

"…Wanna go for round two in my room?"

"You've got it."

We chased each other back upstairs. Safe to say we're official now, but I'll go into detail after I have some alone time.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I—**

**First off, I'd like to thank my beautiful and loyal artistic love-buddy Miss Lazlo, who drove me to finish this. Nothing wrong with a little bribery –wink-**

**This has been an amazing experience for all of us, more so me because I spent so long writing it. I didn't know how this was going to end, really, but I do think that this was a **_**great **_**penultimate chapter, no? It's been forever since I've written so much. Thank you, my beautiful readers! There is ONE MORE chapter after this one, so stay tuned! I hope you enjoyed this delicious Eliteunder goodness as much as I did! Don't forget to review, my loves! (If there are concerns, please message me, my loves)**

—**CC**


End file.
